THIS  BOOK  IS  THE  PROPERTY  Of 

CH/VRLtS.  L  fRYDERBORG. 

'  You  Should  Return  it  Immediately 
After  Beading: 


We  must  hear  what  these  two  men  are  saying,  and  will  play 
a  game  of  piquet  for  a  subterfuge." — Page  393. 


OTHER 

PEOPLE'S 

MONEY 


Translated  from  the  French  of 

EMILE   GABORIAU 


Illustrated  by 
VICTOR  PERARD 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
New  York  1904 


COPYRIGHT,  1874,  BY 
JAMES  R.   OSGOOD  &  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  We  must  hear  what  these  two  men  are  saying,  and  will 
play  a  game  of  piquet  for  a  subterfuge."  .  .  Frontispiece 

Facing 
page 

But  already  had  the  young  man  and  his  elderly  friend 
seated  themselves  and  so  arranged  their  chairs  that 
Mile.  Gilberte  could  not  miss  a  word  of  what  they 
were  about  to  say 84 

Pulei  never  tired  of  singing  his  praises  and  with  such 
pomp  of  expression  and  so  curious  an  exuberance  of 
gesticulation 168 

And  in  fact  he  did  take  from  the  side  pocket  of  the  villain 
a  letter  which  he  unfolded  and  commenced  reading 
aloud 480 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

PART  I. 
I. 

THERE  is  not,  perhaps,  in  all  Paris,  a  quieter  street 
than  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  in  the  Marais,  within  a  step  of  the 
Place  Royale.  No  carriages  there;  never  a  crowd. 
Hardly  is  the  silence  broken  by  the  regulation  drums  of 
the  Minims  Barracks  near  by,  by  the  chimes  of  the 
Church  of  St.  Louis,  or  by  the  joyous  clamors  of  the 
pupils  of  the  Massin  School  during  the  hours  of  recrea- 
tion. 

At  night,  long  before  ten  o'clock,  and  when  the  Boule- 
vard Beaumarchais  is  still  full  of  life,  activity,  and  noise, 
every  thing  begins  to  close.  One  by  one  the  lights  go 
out,  and  the  great  windows  with  diminutive  panes  be- 
come dark.  And  if,  after  midnight,  some  belated  citizen 
passes  on  his  way  home,  he  quickens  his  step,  feeling 
lonely  and  uneasy,  and  apprehensive  of  the  reproaches 
of  his  concierge,  who  is  likely  to  ask  him  whence  he  may 
be  coming  at  so  late  an  hour. 

In  such  a  street,  every  one  knows  each  other :  houses 
have  no  mystery;  families,  no  secrets, — a  small  town, 
where  idle  curiosity  has  always  a  corner  of  the  veil  slyly 


2  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

raised,  where  gossip  flourishes  as  rankly  as  the  grass  on 
the  street. 

Thus  on  the  afternoon  of  the  2/th  of  April,  1872  (a 
Saturday),  a  fact  which  anywhere  else  might  have 
passed  unnoticed  was  attracting  particular  attention. 

A  man  some  thirty  years  of  age,  wearing  the  working 
livery  of  servants  of  the  upper  class, — the  long  striped 
waistcoat  with  sleeves,  and  the  white  linen  apron, — was 
going  from  door  to  door. 

"  Who  can  the  man  be  looking  for  ?  "  wondered  the 
idle  neighbors,  closely  watching  his  evolutions. 

He  was  not  looking  for  any  one.  To  such  as  he  spoke 
to,  he  stated  that  he  had  been  sent  by  a  cousin  of  his,  an 
excellent  cook,  who,  before  taking  a  place  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, was  anxious  to  have  all  possible  informa- 
tion on  the  subject  of  her  prospective  masters.  And 
then,  "  Do  you  know  M.  Vincent  Favoral  ?"  he  would 
ask. 

Concierges  and  shop-keepers  knew  no  one  better ;  for 
it  was  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  that  M. 
Vincent  Favoral,  the  day  after  his  wedding,  had  come 
to  settle  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles ;  and  there  his  two  children 
were  born, — his  son  M.  Maxence,  his  daughter  Mile. 
Gilberte. 

He  occupied  the  second  story  of  the  house  No.  38, — 
one  of  those  old-fashioned  dwellings,  such  as  they  build 
no  more,  since  ground  is  sold  at  twelve  hundred  francs 
the  square  metre ;  in  which  there  is  no  stinting  of  space. 
The  stairs,  with  wrought  iron  balusters,  are  wide  and 
easy,  and  the  ceilings  twelve  feet  high. 

"  Of  course,  we  know  M.  Favoral,"  answered  every 
one  to  the  servant's  questions ;  "  and,  if  there  ever  was 
an  honest  man,  why,  he  is  certainly  the  one.  There  is  a 
man  whom  you  could  trust  with  your  funds,  if  you  had 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  3 

any,  without  fear  of  his  ever  running  off  to  Belgium 
with  them."  And  it  was  further  explained,  that  M. 
Favoral  was  chief  cashier,  and  probably,  also,  one  of  the 
principal  stockholders,  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society,  one 
of  those  admirable  financial  institutions  which  have 
sprung  up  with  the  second  empire,  and  which  had  won 
at  the  Bourse  the  first  installment  of  their  capital,  the 
very  day  that  the  game  of  the  Coup  d'  Etat  was  being 
played  in  the  street. 

"  I  know  well  enough  the  gentleman's  business,"  re- 
marked the  servant ;  "  but  what  sort  of  a  man  is  he  ? 
That's  what  my  cousin  would  like  to  know." 

The  wine-man  at  No.  43,  the  oldest  shop-keeper  in  the 
street,  could  best  answer.  A  couple  of  petits-verres 
politely  offered  soon  started  his  tongue ;  and,  whilst  sip- 
ping his  Cognac : — 

"  M.  Vincent  Favoral,"  he  began,  "  is  a  man  some 
fifty-two  or  three  years  old,  but  who  looks  younger,  not 
having  yet  a  single  gray  hair.  He  is  tall  and  thin,  with 
neatly-trimmed  whiskers,  thin  lips,  and  small  yellow 
eyes ;  not  talkative.  It  takes  more  ceremony  to  get  a 
word  from  his  throat  than  a  dollar  from  his  pocket. 
'  Yes,'  '  no/  '  good-morning,'  '  good-evening ; '  that's 
about  the  extent  of  his  conversation.  Summer  and  win- 
ter, he  wears  gray  pantaloons,  a  long  frock-coat,  laced 
shoes,  and  lisle-thread  gloves.  Ton  my  word,  I  should 
say  that  he  is  still  wearing  the  very  same  clothes  I  saw 
upon  his  back  for  the  first  time  in  1845,  did  I  not  know 
that  he  has  two  full  suits  made  every  year  by  the  con- 
cierge at  No.  29,  who  is  also  a  tailor." 

"  Why,  he  must  be  an  old  miser,"  muttered  the  ser- 
vant. 

"  He  is  above  all  peculiar,"  continued  the  shop-keeper, 
"  like  most  men  of  figures,  it  seems.  His  own  life  i.« 


4  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ruled  and  regulated  like  the  pages  of  his  ledger.  In  the 
neighborhood  they  call  him  Old  Punctuality ;  and,  when 
he  passes  through  the  Rue  Turenne,  the  merchants  set 
their  watches  by  him.  Rain  or  shine,  every  morning  of 
the  year,  on  the  stroke  of  nine,  he  appears  at  the  door  on 
the  way  to  his  office.  When  he  returns,  you  may  be 
sure  it  is  between  twenty  and  twenty-five  minutes  past 
five.  At  six  he  dines ;  at  seven  he  goes  to  play  a  game 
of  dominoes  at  the  Cafe  Turc;  at  ten  he  comes  home 
and  goes  to  bed ;  and,  at  the  first  stroke  of  eleven  at  the 
Church  of  St.  Louis,  out  goes  his  candle." 

"  Hem !  "  grumbled  the  servant  with  a  look  of  con- 
tempt, "  the  question  is,  Will  my  cousin  be  willing  to 
live  with  a  man  who  is  a  sort  of  walking  clock  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  always  pleasant,"  remarked  the  wine-man ; 
"  and  the  best  evidence  is,  that  the  son,  M.  Maxence,  got 
tired  of  it." 

"  He  does  not  live  with  his  parents  any  more?  " 
"  He  dines  with  them ;  but  he  has  his  own  lodgings 
on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple.  The  falling-out  made  talk 
enough  at  the  time;  and  some  people  do  say  that  M. 
Maxence  is  a  worthless  scamp,  who  leads  a  very  dis- 
sipated life ;  but  I  say  that  his  father  kept  him  too  close. 
The  boy  is  twenty-five,  quite  good  looking,  and  has  a 
very  stylish  mistress:  I  have  seen  her.  ...  I  would 
have  done  just  as  he  did." 

"  And  what  about  the  daughter,  Mile.  Gilberte  ?  " 
"  She  is  not  married  yet,  although  she  is  past  twenty, 
and  pretty  as  a  rosebud.  After  the  war,  her  father  tried 
to  make  her  marry  a  stock-broker,  a  stylish  man  who 
always  came  in  a  two-horse  carriage;  but  she  refused 
him  outright.  I  should  not  be  a  bit  surprised  to  hear 
that  she  has  some  love-affair  of  her  own.  I  have  noticed 
lately  a  young  gentleman  about  here  who  looks  up  quite 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  5 

suspiciously  when  he  goes  by  No.  38."  The  servant  did 
not  seem  to  find  these  particulars  very  interesting. 

"  It's  the  lady,"  he  said,  "  that  my  cousin  would  like 
to  know  most  about." 

"  Naturally.  Well,  you  can  safely  tell  her  that  she 
never  will  have  had  a  better  mistress.  Poor  Madame 
Favoral !  She  must  have  had  a  sweet  time  of  it  with  her 
maniac  of  a  husband !  But  she  is  not  young  any  more ; 
and  people  get  accustomed  to  every  thing,  you  know. 
The  days  when  the  weather  is  fine,  I  see  her  going  by 
with  her  daughter  to  the  Place  Royale  for  a  walk. 
That's  about  their  only  amusement." 

"  The  mischief !  "  said  the  servant,  laughing.  "  If 
that  is  all,  she  won't  ruin  her  husband,  will  she  ?  " 

"  That  is  all,"  continued  the  shop-keeper,  "  or  rather, 
excuse  me,  no:  every  Saturday,  for  many  years,  M.  and 
Mme.  Favoral  receive  a  few  of  their  friends:  M.  and 
Mme.  Desclavettes,  retired  dealers  in  bronzes,  Rue  Tu- 
renne;  M.  Chapelain,  the  old  lawyer  from  the  Rue  St. 
Antoine,  whose  daughter  is  Mile.  Gilberte's  particular 
friend;  M.  Desormeaux,  head  clerk  in  the  Department 
of  Justice;  and  three  or  four  others;  and  as  this  just 
happens  to  be  Saturday  " — 

But  here  he  stopped  short,  and  pointing  towards  the 
street, — 

"  Quick,"  said  he,  "  look !  Speaking  of  the — you 
know —  It  is  twenty  minutes  past  five,  there  is  M. 
Favoral  coming  home." 

It  was,  in  fact,  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  So- 
ciety, looking  very  much  indeed  as  the  shop-keeper  had 
described  him.  Walking  with  his  head  down,  he  seemed 
to  be  seeking  upon  the  pavement  the  very  spot  upon 
which  he  had  set  his  foot  in  the  morning,  that  he  might 
set  it  back  again  there  in  the  evening. 


6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

With  the  same  methodical  step,  he  reached  his  house, 
walked  up  the  two  pairs  of  stairs,  and,  taking  out  his 
pass-key,  opened  the  door  of  his  apartment. 

The  dwelling  was  fit  for  the  man;  and  every  thing 
from  the  very  hall,  betrayed  his  peculiarities.  There, 
evidently,  every  piece  of  furniture  must  have  its  invaria- 
ble place,  every  object  its  irrevocable  shelf  or  hook.  All 
around  were  evidences,  if  not  exactly  of  poverty,  at  least 
of  small  means,  and  of  the  artifices  of  a  respectable  econ- 
omy. Cleanliness  was  carried  to  its  utmost  limits :  every 
thing  shone.  Not  a  detail  but  betrayed  the  industrioui 
hand  of  the  housekeeper,  struggling  to  defend  her  furni- 
ture against  the  ravages  of  time.  The  velvet  on  the 
chairs  was  darned  at  the  angles  as  with  the  needle  of  a 
fairy.  Stitches  of  new  worsted  showed  through  the 
faded  designs  on  the  hearth-rugs.  The  curtains  had 
been  turned  so  as  to  display  their  least  worn  side. 

All  the  guests  enumerated  by  the  shop-keeper,  and  a 
few  others  besides,  were  in  the  parlor  when  M.  Favoral 
came  in. 

But,  instead  of  returning  their  greeting, — 

"  Where  is  Maxence  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  am  expecting  him,  my  dear,"  said  Mme.  Favoral 
gently. 

"  Always  behind  time,"  he  scolded.  "  It  is  too  tri- 
fling." 

His  daughter,  Mile.  Gilberte,  interrupted  him, — 

"  Where  is  my  bouquet,  father  ?  "  she  asked. 

M.  Favoral  stopped  short,  struck  his  forehead,  and 
with  the  accent  of  a  man  who  reveals  something  incredi- 
ble, prodigious,  unheard  of, — 

"  Forgotten,"  he  answered,  scanning  the  syllables :  "  I 
have  for-got-ten  it." 

It  was  a  fact.   Every  Saturday,  on  his  way  home,  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  7 

was  in  the  habit  of  stopping  at  the  old  woman's  shop  in 
front  of  the  Church  of  St.  Louis,  and  buying  a  bouquet 
for  Mile.  Gilberte.  And  to-day — 

"  Ah !  I  catch  you  this  time,  father !  "  exclaimed  the 
girl. 

Meantime,  Mme.  Favoral,  whispering  to  Mme.  Des- 
clavettes, — 

"  Positively,"  she  said  in  a  troubled  voice,  "  something 
serious  must  have  happened  to  my  husband.  He  to 
forget !  He  to  fail  in  one  of  his  habits !  It  is  the  first 
time  in  twenty-six  years." 

The  appearance  of  Maxence  at  this  moment  prevented 
her  from  going  on.  M.  Favoral  was  about  to  administer 
a  sound  reprimand  to  his  son,  when  dinner  was  an- 
nounced. 

"  Come,"  exclaimed  M.  Chapelain,  the  old  lawyer,  the 
conciliating  man  par  excellence, — "  come,  let  us  to  the 
table." 

They  sat  down.  But  Mme.  Favoral  had  scarcely 
helped  the  soup,  when  the  bell  rang  violently.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  the  servant  appeared,  and  announced, 

"The  Baron  de  Thaller!" 
More  pale  than  his  napkin,  the  cashier  stood  up. 
"  The  manager,"  he  stammered,  "  the  director  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Society." 


II. 

CLOSE  upon  the  heels  of  the  servant  M.  de  Thaller 
came. 

Tall,  thin,  stiff,  he  had  a  very  small  head,  a  flat  face, 
pointed  nose,  and  long  reddish  whiskers,  slightly  shaded 


8  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

with  silvery  threads,  falling  half-way  down  his  chest. 
Dressed  in  the  latest  style,  he  wore  a  loose  overcoat  of 
rough  material,  pantaloons  that  spread  nearly  to  the  tip 
of  his  boots,  a  wide  shirt-collar  turned  over  a  light 
cravat,  on  the  bow  of  which  shone  a  large  diamond,  and 
a  tall  hat  with  rolled  brims. 

With  a  blinking  glance,  he  made  a  rapid  estimate  of 
the  dining-room,  the  shabby  furniture,  and  the  guests 
seated  around  the  table.  Then,  without  even  conde- 
scending to  touch  his  hat,  with  his  large  hand  tightly 
fitted  into  a  lavender  glove,  in  a  brief  and  imperious  tone, 
and  with  a  slight  accent  which  he  affirmed  was  the  Al- 
satian accent, — 

"  I  must  speak  with  you,  Vincent,"  said  he  to  his 
cashier,  "  alone  and  at  once." 

M.  Favoral  made  visible  efforts  to  conceal  his  anxiety. 

"  You  see,"  he  commenced,  "  we  are  dining  with  a  few 
friends,  and  " — 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  speak  in  presence  of  every- 
body ?  "  interrupted  harshly  the  manager  of  the  Mutual 
Credit. 

The  cashier  hesitated  no  longer.  Taking  up  a  candle 
from  the  table,  he  opened  the  door  leading  to  the  parlor, 
and,  standing  respectfully  to  one  side, — 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  pass  on,  sir,"  said  he :  "I  follow 
you." 

And,  at  the  moment  of  disappearing  himself, — 

"  Continue  to  dine  without  me,"  said  he  to  his  guests, 
with  a  last  effort  at  self-control.  "  I  shall  soon  catch 
up  with  you.  This  will  take  but  a  moment.  Do  not  be 
uneasy  in  the  least." 

They  were  not  uneasv,  but  surprised,  and,  above  all, 
shocked  at  the  manners  of  M.  de  Thaller. 

"  What  a  brute !  "  muttered  Mme.  Desclavettes. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  9 

M.  Desormeaux,  the  head  clerk  at  the  Department  of 
Justice,  was  an  old  legitimist,  much  imbued  with  re-ac- 
tionary  ideas. 

"  Such  are  our  masters,"  said  he  with  a  sneer,  "  the 
high  barons  of  financial  feudality.  Ah!  you  are  in- 
dignant at  the  arrogance  of  the  old  aristocracy;  well, 
on  your  knees,  by  Jupiter !  on  your  face,  rather,  before 
the  golden  crown  on  field  of  gules." 

No  one  replied:  every  one  was  trying  his  best  to 
hear. 

In  the  parlor,  between  M.  Favoral  and  M.  de  Thaller, 
a  discussion  of  the  utmost  violence  was  evidently  going 
on.  To  seize  the  meaning  of  it  was  not  possible;  and 
yet  through  the  door,  the  upper  panels  of  which  were  of 
glass,  fragments  could  be  heard ;  and  from  time  to  time 
such  words  distinctly  reached  the  ear  as  dividend,  stock- 
holders, deficit,  millions,  etc. 

"  What  can  it  all  mean  ?  great  heaven ! "  moaned 
Mme.  Favoral. 

Doubtless  the  two  interlocutors,  the  director  and  the 
cashier,  had  drawn  nearer  to  the  door  of  communication  ; 
for  their  voices,  which  rose  more  and  more,  had  now  be- 
come quite  distinct. 

"  It  is  an  infamous  trap !  "  M.  Favoral  was  saying. 
"  I  should  have  been  notified  " — 

"  Come,  come,"  interrupted  the  other.  "  Were  you 
not  fully  warned?  did  I  ever  conceal  any  thing  from 
you  ?  " 

Fear,  a  fear  vague  still,  and  unexplained,  was  slowly 
taking  possession  of  the  guests ;  and  they  remained  mo- 
tionless, their  forks  in  suspense,  holding  their  breath. 

"  Never,"  M.  Favoral  was  repeating,  stamping  his 
foot  so  violently  that  the  partition  shook, — "  never, 
never ! " 


io  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  yet  it  must  be,"  declared  M.  de  Thaller.  "  It 
is  the  only,  the  last  resource  " — 

"  And  suppose  I  will  not !  "  . 

"Your  will  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  now.  It  is 
twenty  years  ago  that  you  might  have  willed,  or  not 
willed.  But  listen  to  me,  and  let  us  reason  a  little." 

Here  M.  de  Thaller  dropped  his  voice ;  and  for  some 
minutes  nothing  was  heard  in  the  dining-room,  except 
confused  words,  and  incomprehensible  exclamations,  un- 
til suddenly, — 

"  That  is  ruin,"  he  resumed  in  a  furious  tone :  "  it  is 
bankruptcy  on  the  last  of  the  month." 

"  Sir,"  the  cashier  was  replying, — "  sir !  " 

"  You  are  a  forger,  M.  Vincent  Favoral ;  you  are  a 
thief !  " 

Maxence  leaped  from  his  seat. 

"  I  shall  not  permit  my  father  to  be  thus  insulted  in 
his  own  house,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Maxence,"  begged  Mme.  Favoral,  "  my  son !  " 

The  old  lawyer,  M.  Chapelain,  held  him  by  the  arm ; 
but  he  struggled  hard,  and  was  about  to  burst  into  the 
parlor,  when  the  door  opened,  and  the  director  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  stepped  out. 

With  a  coolness  quite  remarkable  after  such  a  scene, 
he  advanced  towards  Mile.  Gilberte,  and,  in  a  tone  of 
offensive  protection, — 

"  Your  father  is  a  wretch,  mademoiselle,"  he  said ; 
"'  and  my  duty  should  be  to  surrender  him  at  once  into 
the  hands  of  justice.  On  account  of  your  worthy 
mother,  however,  of  your  father  himself,  above  all,  on 
your  own  account,  mademoiselle,  I  shall  forbear  doing 
so.  But  let  him  fly,  let  him  disappear,  and  never  more 
be  heard  from." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  u 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  bank-notes,  and, 
throwing  them  upon  the  table, — 

"  Hand  him  this,"  he  added.  "  Let  him  leave  this 
very  night.  The  police  may  have  been  notified.  There 
is  a  train  for  Brussels  at  five  minutes  past  eleven." 

And,  having  bowed,  he  withdrew,  no  one  addressing 
him  a  single  word,  so  great  was  the  astonishment  of  all 
the  guests  of  this  house,  heretofore  so  peaceful. 

Overcome  with  stupor,  Maxence  had  dropped  upon 
his  chair.  Mile.  Gilberte  alone  retained  some  pres- 
ence of  mind. 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  she  exclaimed,  "  for  us  to  give  up 
thus !  That  man  is  an  impostor,  a  wretch ;  he  lies ! 
Father,  father !  " 

M.  Favoral  had  not  waited  to  be  called,  and  was 
standing  up  against  the  parlrr-door,  pale  as  death,  and 
yet  calm. 

"  Why  attempt  any  explanations  ?  "  he  said.  "  The 
money  is  gone ;  and  appearances  are  against  me." 

His  wife  had  drawn  near  to  him,  and  taken  his  hand. 

"  The  misfortune  is  immense,"  she  said,  "  but  not  ir- 
reparable. We  will  sell  everything  we  have." 

"  Have  you  not  friends  ?  Are  we  not  here,"  insisted 
the  others, — M.  Desclavettes,  M.  Desormeaux,  and  M, 
Chapelain. 

Gently  he  pushed  his  wife  aside,  and  coldly. 

"  All  we  had,"  he  said,  "  would  be  as  a  grain  of  sand 
in  an  ocean.  But  we  have  no  longer  anything ;  we  are 
ruined." 

"  Ruined  !  "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux, — "  ruined ! 
And  where  are  the  forty-five  thousand  francs  I  placed 
into  your  hands  ?  " 

He  made  no  reply. 


12  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"And  our  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs?" 
groaned  M.  and  Mme.  Desclavettes. 

"And  my  sixty  thousand  francs?"  shouted  M. 
Chapelain,  with  a  blasphemous  oath. 

The  cashier  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Lost,"  he  said,  "  irrevocably  lost !  " 

Then  their  rage  exceeded  all  bounds.  Then  they  for- 
got that  this  unfortunate  man  had  been  their  friend  for 
twenty  years,  that  they  were  his  guests;  and  they  com- 
menced heaping  upon  him  threats  and  insults  without 
name. 

He  did  not  even  deign  to  defend  himself. 

"  Go  on,"  he  uttered,  "  go  on.  When  a  poor  dog, 
carried  away  by  the  current,  is  drowning,  men  of  heart 
cast  stones  at  him  from  the  bank.  Go  on !  " 

"  You  should  have  told  us  that  you  speculated," 
screamed  M.  Desclavettes. 

On  hearing  these  words,  he  straightened  himself  up, 
and  with  a  gesture  so  terrible  that  the  others  stepped 
back  frightened. 

"  What !  "said  he,  in  a  tone  of  crushing  irony,  "  it  is 
this  evening  only,  that  you  discover  that  I  speculated? 
Kind  friends !  Where,  then,  and  in  whose  pockets,  did 
you  suppose  I  was  getting  the  enormous  interests  I 
have  been  paying  you  for  years  ?  Where  have  you  ever 
seen  honest  money,  the  money  of  labor,  yield  twelve  or 
fourteen  per  cent?  The  money  that  yields  thus  is  the 
money  of  the  gaming  table,  the  money  of  the  bourse. 
Why  did  you  bring  me  your  funds  ?  Because  you  were 
fully  satisfied  that  I  knew  how  to  handle  the  cards.  Ah ! 
If  I  was  to  tell  you  that  I  had  doubled  your  capital,  you 
would  not  ask  how  I  did  it,  nor  whether  I  had  stocked 
the  cards.  You  would  virtuously  pocket  the  money.  But 
I  have  lost :  I  am  a  thief.  Well»  so  be  it.  But,  then,  you 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  13 

are  all  my  accomplices.    It  is  the  avidity  of  the  dupes 
which  induces  the  trickery  of  the  sharpers." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  servant  coming  in. 
"  Sir,"  she  exclaimed  excitedly,  "  O  sir !  the  courtyard 
is  full  of  police  agents.  They  are  speaking  to  the  con- 
cierge. They  are  coming  up  stairs :  I  hear  them !  " 


III. 

ACCORDING  to  the  time  and  place  where  they  are  ut- 
tered, there  are  words  which  acquire  a  terrible  signifi- 
cance. In  this  disordered  room,  in  the  midst  of  these  ex- 
cited people,  that  word,  the  "  police,"  sounded  like  a 
thunderclap. 

"  Do  not  open,"  Maxence  ordered ;  "  do  not  open, 
however  they  may  ring  or  knock.  Let  them  burst  the 
door  first." 

The  very  excess  of  her  fright  restored  to  Mme.  Fa- 
voral  a  portion  of  her  energy.  Throwing  herself  before 
her  husband  as  if  to  protect  him,  as  if  to  defend  him, — 

'*  They  are  coming  to  arrest  you,  Vincent,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  They  are  coming ;  don't  you  hear  them  ?  " 

He  remained  motionless,  his  feet  seemingly  riveted  to 
the  floor. 

"  That  is  as  I  expected,"  he  said. 

And  with  the  accent  of  the  wretch  who  sees  all  hope 
vanish,  and  who  utterly  gives  up  all  struggle, — 

"  Be  it  so,"  he  said.  "  Let  them  arrest  me,  and  let  all 
be  over  at  once.  I  have  had  enough  anxiety,  enough  un- 
bearable alternatives.  I  am  tired  always  to  feign,  to  de- 
ceive, and  to  lie.  Let  them  arrest  me !  Any  misfortune 
will  be  smaller  in  reality  than  the  horrors  of  uncertainty. 


14  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

I  have  nothing  more  to  fear  now.  For  the  first  time  in 
many  years  I  shall  sleep  to-night." 

He  did  not  notice  the  sinister  expression  of  his  guests. 

"  You  think  I  am  a  thief,"  he  added :  "  well,  be  satis- 
fied, justice  shall  be  done." 

But  he  attributed  to  them  sentiments  which  were  no 
longer  theirs.  They  had  forgotten  their  anger,  and  their 
bitter  resentment  for  their  lost  money. 

The  imminence  of  the  peril  awoke  suddenly  in  their 
souls  the  memories  of  the  past,  and  that  strong  affection 
which  comes  from  long  habit,  and  a  constant  exchange 
of  services  rendered.  Whatever  M.  Favoral  might  have 
done,  they  only  saw  in  him  now  the  friend,  the  host 
whose  bread  they  had  broken  together  more  than  a  hun- 
dred times,  the  man  whose  probity,  up  to  this  fatal  night, 
had  remained  far  above  suspicion. 

Pale,  excited,  they  crowded  around  him. 

"  Have  you  lost  your  mind  ?  "  spoke  M.  Desormeaux. 
"  Are  you  going  to  wait  to  be  arrested,  thrown  into 
prison,  dragged  into  a  criminal  court?  " 

He  shook  his  head,  and  in  a  tone  of  idiotic  obsti- 
nacy,— 

"  Have  I  not  told  you,"  he  repeated,  "  that  every  thing 
is  against  me?  Let  them  come;  let  them  do  what  they 
please  with  me." 

"  And  your  wife,"  insisted  M.  Chapelain,  the  old  law- 
yer, "  and  your  children !  " 

"  Will  they  be  any  the  less  dishonored  if  I  am  con- 
demned by  default?'' 

Wild  with  grief,  Mme.  Favoral  was  wringing  her 
hands. 

"  Vincent,"  she  murmured,  "  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
spare  us  the  harrowing  agony  to  have  you  in  prison." 

Obstinately  he  remained  silent.    His  daughter,  Mile. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  15 

Gilberte,  dropped  upon  her  knees  before  him,  and,  join- 
ing her  hands, — 

"  I  beseech  you,  father,"  she  begged. 

He  shuddered  all  over.  An  unspeakable  expression  of 
suffering  and  anguish  contracted  his  features;  and, 
speaking  in  a  scarcely  intelligible  voice, — 

"  Ah !  you  are  cruelly  protracting  my  agony,"  he 
stammered.  "  What  do  you  ask  of  me  ?  " 

"  You  must  fly,"  declared  M.  Desclavettes. 

"  Which  way  ?  How  ?  Do  you  not  think  that  every 
precaution  has  been  taken,  that  every  issue  is  closely 
watched  ?  " 

Maxence  interrupted  him  with  a  gesture, — 

"  The  windows  in  sister's  room,  father,"  said  he, 
"  open  upon  the  courtyard  of  the  adjoining  house." 

"  Yes ;  but  here  we  are  up  two  pairs  of  stairs." 

"  No  matter :  I  have  a  way." 

And  turning  towards  his  sister, — 

"  Come,  Gilberte,"  went  on  the  young  man,  "  give 
me  a  light,  and  let  me  have  some  sheets." 

They  went  out  hurriedly.  Mme.  Favoral  felt  a  gleam 
of  hope. 

"  We  are  saved !  "  she  said. 

"  Saved !  "  repeated  the  cashier  mechanically. 

"  Yes ;  for  I  guess  Maxence's  idea.  But  we  must  have 
an  understanding.  Where  will  you  take  refuge  ?  " 

"How  can  I  tell?" 

"  There  is  a  train  at  five  minutes  past  eleven,"  re- 
marked M.  Desormeaux.  "  Don't  let  us  forget  that." 

"  But  money  will  be  required  to  leave  by  that  train," 
interrupted  the  old  lawyer.  "  Fortunately,  I  have  some." 

And,  forgetting  his  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
francs  lost,  he  took  out  his  pocket-book.  Mme.  Favoral 
stopped  him.  "  We  have  more  than  we  need,"  said  she. 


16  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

She  took  from  the  table,  and  held  out  to  her  husband, 
the  roll  of  bank-notes  which  the  director  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Society  had  thrown  down  before  going. 

He  refused  them  with  a  gesture  of  rage. 

"  Rather  starve  to  death !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Tis  he, 
'tis  that  wretch  " — 

But  he  interrupted  himself,  and  more  gently, — 

"  Put  away  those  bank-bills,"  said  he  to  his  wife,  "  and 
let  Maxence  take  them  back  to  M.  de  Thaller  to-mor- 
row." 

The  bell  rang  violently. 

"  The  police !  "  groaned  Mme.  Desclavettes,  who 
seemed  on  the  point  of  fainting  away. 

"  I  am  going  to  negotiate,"  said  M.  Desormeaux. 
"  Fly,  Vincent :  do  not  lose  a  minute." 

And  he  ran  to  the  front-door,  whilst  Mme.  Favoral 
was  hurrying  her  husband  towards  Mile.  Gilberte's 
room. 

Rapidly  and  stoutly  Maxence  had  fastened  four 
sheets  together  by  the  ends,  which  gave  a  more  than  suf- 
ficient length.  Then,  opening  the  window,  he  examined 
carefully  the  courtyard  of  the  adjoining  house. 

"  No  one,"  said  he :  "  everybody  is  at  dinner.  We'll 
succeed." 

M.  Favoral  was  tottering  like  a  drunken  man.  A  ter- 
rible emotion  convulsed  his  features.  Casting  a  long 
look  upon  his  wife  and  children, — 

"  O  Lord !  "  he  murmured,  "  what  will  become  of 
you?" 

"  Fear  nothing,  father,"  uttered  Maxence.  "  I  am 
here.  Neither  my  mother  nor  my  sister  will  want  for 
any  thing." 

"  My  son !  "  resumed  the  cashier,  "  my  children !  " 

Then,  with  a  choking  voice, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  i; 

"  I  am  worthy  neither  of  your  love  nor  your  devotion, 
wretch  that  I  am !  I  made  you  lead  a  miserable  existence, 
spend  a  joyless  youth.  I  imposed  upon  you  every  trial 
of  poverty,  whilst  I — And  now  I  leave  you  nothing  but 
ruin  and  a  dishonored  name." 

"  Make  haste,  father,"  interrupted  Mile.  Gilberte. 

It  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind. 

"  It  is  horrible  to  abandon  you  thus.  What  a  parting ! 
Ah!  death  would  indeed  be  far  preferable:  What  will 
you  think  of  me  ?  I  am  very  guilty,  certainly,  but  not  as 
you  think.  I  have  been  betrayed,  and  I  must  suffer  for 
all.  If  at  least  you  knew  the  whole  truth.  But  will  you 
ever  know  it  ?  We  will  never  see  each  other  again." 

Desperately  his  wife  clung  to  him. 

"  Do  not  speak  thus,"  she  said.  "  Wherever  you  may 
find  an  asylum,  I  will  join  you.  Death  alone  can  sepa- 
rate us.  What  do  I  care  what  you  may  have  done,  or 
what  the  world  will  say?  I  am  your  wife.  Our  chil- 
dren will  come  with  me.  If  necessary,  we  will  emi- 
grate' to  America;  we'll  change  our  name;  we  will 
work." 

The  knocks  on  the  outer  door  were  becoming  louder 
and  louder ;  and  M.  Desormeaux's  voice  could  be  heard, 
endeavoring  to  gain  a  few  moments  more. 

"  Come,"  said  Maxence,  "  you  cannot  hesitate  any 
longer." 

And,  overcoming  his  father's  reluctance,  he  fastened 
one  end  of  the  sheets  around  his  waist. 

"  I  am  going  to  let  you  down,  father,"  said  he ;  "  and, 
as  soon  as  you  touch  the  ground,  you  must  undo  the 
knot.  Take  care  of  the  first-story  windows ;  beware  of 
the  concierge;  and,  once  in  the  street,  don't  walk  too 
fast.  Make  for  the  Boulevard,  where  you  will  be  sooner 
lost  in  the  crowd." 


18  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

The  knocks  had  now  become  violent  blows;  and  it 
was  evident  that  the  door  would  soon  be  broken  in, 
if  M.  Desormeaux  did  not  make  up  his  mind  to  open 
it. 

The  light  was  put  out.  With  the  assistance  of  his 
daughter,  M.  Favoral  lifted  himself  upon  the  window- 
sill,  whilst  Maxence  held  the  sheets  with  both  hands. 

"  I  beseech  you,  Vincent,"  repeated  Mme.  Favoral, 
"  write  to  us.  We  shall  be  in  mortal  anxiety  until  we 
hear  of  your  safety." 

Maxence  let  the  sheets  slip  slowly :  in  two  seconds  M. 
Favoral  stood  on  the  pavement  below. 

"  All  right,"  he  said. 

The  young  man  drew  the  sheets  back  rapidly,  and 
threw  them  under  the  bed.  But  Mile.  Gilberte  remained 
long  enough  at  the  window  to  recognize  her  father's 
voice  asking  the  concierge  to  open  the  door,  and  to  hear 
the  heavy  gate  of  the  adjoining  house  closing  behind 
him. 

"  Saved !  "  she  said. 

It  was  none  too  soon.  M.  Desormeaux  had  just  been 
compelled  to  yield;  and  the  commissary  of  police  was 
walking  in. 


IV. 

THE  commissaries  of  police  of  Paris,  as  a  general 
thing,  are  no  simpletons ;  and,  if  they  are  ever  taken  in, 
it  is  because  it  has  suited  them  to  be  taken  in. 

Their  modest  title  covers  the  most  important,  perhaps, 
of  magistracies,  almost  the  only  one  known  to  the  lower 
classes;  an  enormous  power,  and  an  influence  so  de- 
cisive, that  the  most  sensible  statesman  of  the  reign  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  19 

Louis  Philippe  ventured  once  to  say,  "  Give  me  twenty 
good  commissaries  of  police  in  Paris,  and  I'll  undertake 
to  suppress  any  government :  net  profit,  one  hundred  mil- 
lions." 

Parisian  above  all,  the  commissary  has  had  ample 
time  to  study  his  ground  when  he  was  yet  only  a  peace- 
officer.  The  dark  side  of  the  most  brilliant  lives  has  no 
mysteries  for  him.  He  has  received  the  strangest  con- 
fidences :  he  has  listened  to  the  most  astounding  confes- 
sions. He  knows  how  low  humanity  can  stoop,  and  what 
aberrations  there  are  in  brains  apparently  the  soundest. 
The  workwoman  whom  her  husband  beats,  and  the  great 
lady  whom  her  husband  cheats,  have  both  come  to  him. 
He  has  been  sent  for  by  the  shop-keeper  whom  his  wife 
deceives,  and  by  the  millionaire  who  has  been  black- 
mailed. To  his  office,  as  to  a  lay  confessional,  all  pas- 
sions fatally  lead.  In  his  presence  the  dirty  linen  of  two 
millions  of  people  is  washed  en  famille. 

A  Paris  commissary  of  police,  who  after  ten  years' 
practice,  could  retain  an  illusion,  believe  in  something, 
or  be  astonished  at  any  thing  in  the  world,  would  be  but 
a  fool.  If  he  is  still  capable  of  some  emotion,^  he  is  a 
good  man. 

The  one  who  had  just  walked  into  M.  Favoral's  apart- 
ment was  already  past  middle  age,  colder  than  ice,  and 
yet  kindly,  but  of  that  commonplace  kindliness  which 
frightens  like  the  executioner's  politeness  at  the  scaffold. 

He  required  but  a  single  glance  of  his  small  but  clear 
eyes  to  decipher  the  physiognomies  of  all  these  worthy 
people  standing  around  the  disordered  table. 

And  beckoning  to  the  agents  who  accompanied  him  to 
stop  at  the  door, — 

"  Monsieur  Vincent  Favoral  ?  "  he  inquired. 

The    cashier's    guests,    M.    Desormeaux     excepted, 


20  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

seemed  stricken  with  stupor.  Each  one  felt  as  if  he  had 
a  share  of  the  disgrace  of  this  police  invasion.  The  dupes 
who  are  sometimes  caught  in  clandestine  "  hells  "  have 
the  same  humiliated  attitudes. 

At  last,  and  not  without  an  effort, — 

"  M.  Favoral  is  no  longer  here,"  replied  M.  Chapelain, 
the  old  lawyer. 

The  commissary  of  police  started. 

Whilst  they  were  discussing  with  him  through  the 
door,  he  had  perfectly  well  understood  that  they  were 
only  trying  to  gain  time;  and,  if  he  had  not  at  once 
burst  in  the  door,  it  was  solely  owing  to  his  respect  for 
M.  Desormeaux  himself,  whom  he  knew  personally,  and 
still  more  for  his  title  of  head  clerk  at  the  Department 
of  Justice.  But  his  suspicions  did  not  extend  beyond  the 
destruction  of  a  few  compromising  papers.  Whereas, 
in  fact, — 

"  You  have  helped  M.  Favoral  to  escape,  gentlemen  ?  " 
said  he. 

No  one  replied. 

"  Silence  means  assent,"  he  added.  "  Very  well : 
which  way  did  he  get  off  ?  " 

Still  no  answer.  M.  Desclavettes  would  have  been 
glad  to  add  something  to  the  forty-five  thousand  francs 
he  had  just  lost,  to  be,  together  with  Mme.  Desclavettes, 
a  hundred  miles  away. 

"  Where  is  Mme.  Favoral  ?  "  resumed  the  commissary, 
evidently  well  informed.  "  Where  are  Mile.  Gilberte 
and  M.  Maxence  Favoral  ?  " 

They  continued  silent.  No  one  in  the  dining-room 
knew  what  might  have  taken  place  in  the  other  room; 
and  a  single  word  might  be  treason. 

The  commissary  then  became  impatient. 

"  Take  up  a  light,"  said  he  to  one  of  the  agents  who 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  21 

had  remained  at  the  door,  "  and  follow  me.  We  shall 
see." 

And  without  a  shadow  of  hesitation,  for  it  seems  to 
be  the  privilege  of  police-agents  to  be  at  home  every- 
where, he  crossed  the  parlor,  and  reached  Mile.  Gil- 
berte's  room  just  as  she  was  withdrawing  from  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Ah,  it  is  that  way  he  escaped !  "  he  exclaimed. 

He  rushed  to  the  window,  and  remained  long  enough 
leaning  on  his  elbows  to  thoroughly  examine  the  ground, 
and  understand  the  situation  of  the  apartment. 

"  It's  evident,"  he  said  at  last,  "  this  window  opens 
on  the  courtyard  of  the  next  house." 

This  was  said  to  one  of  his  agents,  who  bore  an  un- 
mistakable resemblance  to  the  servant  who  had  been 
asking  so  many  questions  in  the  afternoon. 

"  Instead  of  gathering  so  much  useless  information," 
he  added,  "  why  did  you  not  post  yourself  as  to  the  out- 
lets of  the  house?" 

He  was  "  sold ;  "  and  yet  he  manifested  neither  spite 
nor  anger.  He  seemed  in  no  wise  anxious  to  run 
after  the  fugitive.  Upon  the  features  of  Maxence  and 
of  Mile.  Gilberte,  and  more  still  in  Mme.  Favoral's  eyes, 
he  had  read  that  it  would  be  useless  for  the  pres- 
ent. 

"  Let  us  examine  the  papers,  then,"  said  he. 

"  My  husband's  papers  are  all  in  his  study,"  replied 
Mme.  Favoral. 

"  Please  lead  me  to  it,  madame." 

The  room  which  M.  Favoral  called  loftily  his  study 
was  a  small  room  with  a  tile  floor,  white-washed  walls, 
and  meanly  lighted  through  a  narrow  transom. 

It  was  furnished  with  an  old  desk,  a  small  wardrobe 
with  grated  door,  a  few  shelves  upon  which  were  piled 


22  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

some  bandboxes  and  bundles  of  old  newspapers,  and  two 
or  three  deal  chairs. 

"  Where  are  the  keys  ?  "  inquired  the  commissary  of 
police. 

"  My  father  always  carries  them  in  his  pocket,  sir," 
replied  Maxence. 

"  Then  let  some  one  go  for  a  locksmith." 

Stronger  than  fear,  curiosity  had  drawn  all  the  guests 
of  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society,  M.  Desor- 
meaux,  M.  Chapelain,  M.  Desclavettes  himself;  and, 
standing  within  the  door-frame,  they  followed  eagerly 
every  motion  of  the  commissary,  who,  pending  the 
arrival  of  the  locksmith,  was  making  a  flying  examina- 
tion of  the  bundles  of  papers  left  exposed  upon  the 
desk. 

After  a  while,  and  unable  to  hold  in  any  longer, — 
"  Would  it  be    indiscreet/'    timidly    inquired   the   old 
bronze-merchant,  "  to  ask  the  nature  of    the    charges 
against  that  poor  Favoral  ?  " 

"  Embezzlement,  sir." 

"And  is  the  amount  large?" 

"  Had  it  been  small,  I  should  have  said  theft.  Em- 
bezzling commences  only  when  the  sum  has  reached  a 
round  figure." 

Annoyed  at  the  sardonic  tone  of  the  commissary, — 

"  The  fact  is,"  resumed  M.  Chapelain,  "  Favoral  was 
our  friend ;  and,  if  we  could  get  him  out  of  the  scrape, 
we  would  all  willingly  contribute." 

"  It's  a  matter  of  ten  or  twelve  millions,  gentlemen." 

Was  it  possible  ?  Was  it  even  likely  ?  Could  any  one 
imagine  so  many  millions  slipping  through  the  fingers 
of  M.  de  Thaller's  methodic  cashier? 

"  Ah,  sir !  "  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral,  "  if  any  thing 
could  relieve  my  feelings,  the  enormity  of  that  sum 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  23 

would.    My  husband  was  a  man  of  simple  and  modest 
tastes." 

The  commissary  shook  his  head. 

"  There  are  certain  passions,"  he  interrupted,  "  which 
nothing  betrays  externally.  Gambling  is  more  terrible 
than  fire.  After  a  fire,  some  charred  remnants  are 
found.  What  is  there  left  after  a  lost  game  ?  Fortunes 
may  be  thrown  into  the  vortex  of  the  bourse,  without 
a  trace  of  them  being  left." 

The  unfortunate  woman  was  not  convinced. 

"  I  could  swear,  sir,"  she  protested,  "  that  I  knew 
how  my  husband  spent  every  hour  of  his  life." 

"  Do  not  swear,  madame." 

"  All  our  friends  will  tell  you  how  parsimonious  my 
husband  was." 

"  Here,  madame,  towards  yourself  and  your  children, 
I  have  no  doubt;  for  seeing  is  believing:  but  else- 
where " — 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the  locksmith, 
who,  in  less  than  five  minutes,  had  picked  all  the  locks  of 
the  old  desk. 

But  in  vain  did  the  commissary  search  all  the  drawers. 
He  found  only  those  useless  papers  which  are  made  relics 
of  by  people  who  have  made  order  their  religious  faith, — 
uninteresting  letters,  grocers'  and  butchers'  bills  run- 
ning back  twenty  years. 

"  It  is  a  waste  of  time  to  look  for  any  thing  here,"  he 
growled. 

And  in  fact  he  was  about  to  give  up  his  perquisitions, 
when  a  bundle  thinner  than  the  rest  attracted  his  atten- 
tion. He  cut  the  thread  that  bound  it;  and  almost  at 
once, — 

"  I  knew  I  was  right,"  he  said.  And  holding  out  a 
paper  to  Mme.  Favoral, — 


24  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Read,  madame,  if  you  please." 
It  was  a  bill.    She  read  thus: — 

"  Sold  to  M.  Favoral  an  India  Cashmere,  fr.  8,500. 

Received  payment,          FORBE  &  TOWLER." 

"  Is  it  for  you,  madame,"  asked  the  commissary,  "  that 
this  magnificent  shawl  was  bought  ?  " 

Stupefied  with  astonishment,  the  poor  woman  still  re- 
fused to  admit  the  evidence. 

"  Madame  de  Thaller  spends  a  great  deal,"  she  stam- 
mered. "  My  husband  often  made  important  purchases 
for  her  account." 

"  Often,  indeed !  "  interrupted  the  commissary  of  po- 
lice ;  "  for  here  are  many  other  receipted  bills, — ear- 
rings, sixteen  thousand  francs ;  a  bracelet,  three  thousand 
francs ;  a  parlor  set,  a  horse,  two  velvet  dresses.  Here 
is  a  part,  ,at  least,  if  not  the  whole,  of  the  ten  millions." 


V. 

HAD  the  commissary  received  any  information  in  ad- 
vance? or  was  he  guided  only  by  the  scent  peculiar  to 
men  of  his  profession,  and  the  habit  of  suspecting  every 
thing,  even  that  which  seems  most  unlikely  ? 

At  any  rate  he  expressed  himself  in  a  tone  of  absolute 
certainty. 

The  agents  who  had  accompanied  and  assisted  him  in 
his  researches  were  winking  at  each  other,  and  giggling 
stupidly.  The  situation  struck  them  as  rather  pleasant. 

The  others,  M.  Desclavettes,  M.  Chapelain,  and  the 
worthy  M.  Desormeaux  himself,  could  have  racked  their 
brains  in  vain  to  find  terms  wherein  to  express  the  im- 
mensity of  their  astonishments.  Vincent  Favoral,  their 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  25 

old  friend,  paying  for  cashmeres,  diamonds,  and  parlor 
sets !  Such  an  idea  could  not  enter  in  their  mind.  For 
whom  could  such  princely  gifts  be  intended?  For  a 
mistress,  for  one  of  those  redoubtable  creatures  whom 
fancy  represents  crouching  in  the  depths  of  love,  like 
monsters  at  the  bottom  of  their  caves ! 

But  how  could  any  one  imagine  the  methodic  cashier 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society  carried  away  by  one  of 
those  insane  passions  which  knew  no  reason?  Ruined 
by  gambling,  perhaps,  but  by  a  woman ! 

Could  any  one  picture  him,  so  homely  and  so  plain 
here,  Rue  St.  Gilles,  at  the  head  of  another  establishment, 
and  leading  elsewhere,  in  one  of  the  brilliant  quarters 
of  Paris,  a  reckless  life,  such  as  strike  terror  in  the 
bosom  of  quiet  families  ? 

Could  any  one  understand  the  same  man  at  once  mi- 
serly-economical and  madly-prodigal,  storming  when  his 
wife  spent  a  few  cents,  and  robbing  to  supply  the 
expenses  of  an  adventuress,  and  collecting  in  the 
same  drawer  the  jeweler's  accounts  and  the  butcher's 
bills? 

"  It  is  the  climax  of  absurdity,"  murmured  good  M. 
Desormeaux. 

Maxence  fairly  shook  with  wrath.  Mile.  Gilberte  was 
weeping. 

Mme.  Favoral  alone,  usually  so  timid,  boldly  defended, 
and  with  her  utmost  energy,  the  man  whose  name  she 
bore.  That  he  might  have  embezzled  millions,  she  ad- 
mitted :  that  he  had  deceived  and  betrayed  her  so  shame- 
fully, that  he  had  made  a  wretched  dupe  of  her  for  so 
many  years,  seemed  to  her  insensate,  monstrous,  impos- 
sible. 

And  purple  with  shame, — 

"  Your  suspicions  would  vanish  at  once,  sir,"  she 


26  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

said  to  the  commissary,  "  if  I  could  but  explain  to  you 
our  mode  of  life." 

Encouraged  by  his  first  discovery,  he  was  proceeding 
more  minutely  with  his  perquisitions,  undoing  the 
strings  of  every  bundle. 

"It  is  useless,  madame,"  he  answered  in  that  brief  tone 
which  made  so  much  impression  upon  M.  Desclavettes. 
"  You  can  only  tell  me  what  you  know ;  and  you  know 
nothing." 

"  Never,  sir,  did  a  man  lead  a  more  regular  life  than 
M.  Favoral." 

"  In  appearance,  you  are  right.  Besides,  to  regulate 
one's  disorder  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  our  time.  We 
open  credits  to  our  passions,  and  we  keep  account  of 
our  infamies  by  double  entry.  We  operate  with  method. 
We  embezzle  millions  that  we  may  hang  diamonds  to 
the  ears  of  an  adventuress ;  but  we  are  careful,  and  we 
keep  the  receipted  bills." 

"  But,  sir,  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  never  lost 
sight  of  my  husband." 

"-Of  course." 

"  Every  morning,  precisely  at  nine  o'clock,  he  left 
home  to  go  to  M.  de  Thaller's  office." 

"  The  whole  neighborhood  knows  that,  madame." 

"  At  half-past  five  he  came  home." 

"  That,  also,  is  a  well-known  fact." 

"  After  dinner  he  went  out  to  play  a  game,  but  it  was 
his  only  amusement ;  and  at  eleven  o'clock  he  was  always 
in  bed." 

"  Perfectly  correct." 

"  Well,  then,  sir,  where  could  M.  Favoral  have  found 
time  to  abandon  himself  to  the  excesses  of  which  you 
accuse  him?" 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  27 

Imperceptibly  the  commissary  of  police  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"  Far  from  me,  madame/'  he  uttered,  "  to  doubt  your 
good  faith.  What  matters  it,  moreover,  whether  your 
husband  spent  in  this  way  or  in  that  way  the  sums  which 
he  is  charged  with  having  appropriated?  But  what  do 
your  objections  prove?  Simply  that  M.  Favoral  was 
very  skilful,  and  very  much  self-possessed.  Had  he 
breakfasted  when  he  left  you  at  nine  ?  No.  Pray,  then, 
where  did  he  breakfast  ?  In  a  restaurant  ?  Which  ?  Why 
did  he  come  home  only  at  half-past  five,  when  his  office 
actually  closed  at  three  o'clock  ?  Are  you  quite  sure  that 
it  was  to  the  Cafe  Turc  that  he  went  every  evening. 
Finally,  why  do  not  you  say  any  thing  of  the  extra  work 
which  he  always  had  to  attend  to,  as  he  pretended,  once 
or  twice  a  month  ?  Sometimes  it  was  a  loan,  sometimes 
a  liquidation,  or  a  settlement  of  dividends,  which  de- 
volved upon  him.  Did  he  come  home  then?  No.  He 
told  you  that  he  would  dine  out,  and  that  it  would  be 
more  convenient  for  him  to  have  a  cot  put  up  in  his  of- 
fice ;  and  thus  you  were  twenty- four  or  forty-eight  hours 
without  seeing  him.  Surely  this  double  existence  must 
have  weighed  heavily  upon  him ;  but  he  was  forbidden 
from  breaking  off  with  you,  under  penalty  of  being 
caught  the  very  next  day  with  his  hand  in  the  till.  It  is 
the  respectability  of  his  official  life  here  which  made  the 
other  possible, — that  which  has  absorbed  such  enormous 
sums.  The  harsher  and  the  closer  he  were  here,  the 
more  magnificent  he  could  show  himself  elsewhere.  His 
household  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  was  for  him  a  certificate 
of  impunity.  Seeing  him  so  economical,  every  one 
thought  him  rich.  People  who  seem  to  spend  nothing 
are  always  trusted.  Every  privation  which  he  imposed 


28  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

upon  you  increased  his  reputation  of  austere  probity, 
and  raised  him  farther  above  suspicion." 

Big  tears  were  rolling  down  Mme.  Favoral's  cheeks. 

"  Why  not  tell  me  the  whole  truth  ?  "  she  stammered. 

"  Because  I  do  not  know  it,"  replied  the  commissary ; 
"  because  these  are  all  mere  presumptions.  I  have  seen 
so  many  instances  of  similar  calculations !  " 

Then  regretting,  perhaps,  to  have  said  so  much, — 

"  But  I  may  be  mistaken,"  he  added :  "  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  be  infallible."  He  was  just  then  completing 
a  brief  inventory  of  all  the  papers  found  in  the  old  desk. 
There  was  nothing  left  but  to  examine  the  drawer  which 
was  used  for  a  cash  drawer.  He  found  in  it  in  gold, 
notes,  and  small  change,  seven  hundred  and  eighteen 
francs. 

Having  counted  this  sum,  the  commissary  offered  it 
to  Mme.  Favoral,  saying, — 

<l  This  belongs  to  you  madame." 

But  instinctively  she  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  Never ! ''  she  said. 

The  commissary  went  on  with  a  gesture  of  kindness, — 

"  I  understand  your  scruples,  madame,  and  yet  I  must 
insist.  You  may  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  this 
little  sum  is  fairly  and  legitimately  yours.  You  have 
no  personal  fortune." 

The  efforts  of  the  poor  woman  to  keep  from  bursting 
into  loud  sobs  were  but  too  visible. 

"  I  possess  nothing  in  the  world,  sir,"  she  said  in  a 
broken  voice.  "  My  husband  alone  attended  to  our  busi- 
ness-affairs. He  never  spoke  to  me  about  them ;  and  I 
would  not  have  dared  to  question  him.  Alone  he  dis- 
posed of  our  money.  Every  Sunday  he  handed  me  the 
amount  which  he  thought  necessary  for  the  expenses  of 
the  week,  and  I  rendered  him  an  account  of  it.  When 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  29 

my  children  or  myself  were  in  need  of  any  thing,  I  told 
him  so,  and  he  gave  me  what  he  thought  proper.  This 
is  Saturday :  of  what  I  received  last  Sunday  I  have  five 
francs  left:  that  is  our  whole  fortune." 

Positively  the  commissary  was  moved. 

"  You  see,  then,  madame,"  he  said,  "  that  you  cannot 
hesitate:  you  must  live." 

Maxence  stepped  forward. 

"  Am  I  not  here,  sir  ?  "  he  said. 

The  commissary  looked  at  him  keenly,  and  in  a  grave 
tone, — 

"  I  believe  indeed,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  that  you  will  not 
suffer  your  mother  and  sister  to  want  for  any  thing. 
But  resources  are  not  created  in  a  day.  Yours,  if  I  have 
not  been  deceived,  are  more  than  limited  just  now.'' 

And  as  the  young  man  blushed,  and  did  not  answer, 
he  handed  the  seven  hundred  francs  to  Mile.  Gilberte, 
saying,— 

"  Take  this,  mademoiselle :  your  mother  permits  it." 

His  work  was  done.  To  place  his  seals  upon  M.  Fa- 
voral's  study  was  the  work  of  a  moment. 

Beckoning,  then,  to  his  agents  to  withdraw,  and  being 
ready  to  leave  himself, — 

"  Let  not  the  seals  cause  you  any  uneasiness,  ma- 
dame,"  said  the  commissary  of  police  to  Mme.  Favoral. 
"  Before  forty-eight  hours,  some  one  will  come  to  re- 
move these  papers,  and  restore  to  you  the  free  use  of  that 
room." 

He  went  out ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  be- 
hind him, — 

"  Well  ?  "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux. 

But  no  one  had  any  thing  to  say.  The  guests  of  that 
house  where  misfortune  had  just  entered  were  making 
haste  to  leave.  The  catastrophe  was  certainly  terrible 


30  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  unforeseen;  but  did  it  not  reach  them  too?  Did 
they  not  lose  among  them  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  francs? 

Thus,  after  a  few  commonplace  protestations,  and 
some  of  those  promises  which  mean  nothing,  they  with- 
drew; and,  as  they  were  going  down  the  stairs, — 

"  The  commissary  took  Vincent's  escape  too  easy,"  re- 
marked M.  Desormeaux.  "  He  must  know  some  way  to 
catch  him  again." 


VI. 

AT  last  Mme.  Favoral  found  herself  alone  with  her 
children  and  free  to  give  herself  up  to  the  most  frightful 
despair. 

She  dropped  heavily  upon  a  seat ;  and,  drawing  to  her 
bosom  Maxence  and  Gilberte, — 

"  O  my  children !  "  she  sobbed,  covering  them  with 
her  kisses  and  her  tears, — "  my  children,  we  are  most 
unfortunate." 

Not  less  distressed  than  herself,  they  strove,  neverthe- 
less, to  mitigate  her  anguish,  to  inspire  her  with  suffi- 
cient courage  to  bear  this  crushing  trial ;  and  kneeling  at 
her  feet,  and  kissing  her  hands, — 

"  Are  we  not  with  you  still,  mother  ?  "  they  kept  re- 
peating. 

But  she  seemed  not  to  hear  them. 

"  It  is  not  for  myself  that  I  weep,"  she  went  on.  "  I ! 
what  had  I  still  to  wait  or  hope  for  in  life?  Whilst 
you,  Maxence,  you,  my  poor  Gilberte! — If,  at  least,  I 
could  feel  myself  free  from  blame!  But  no.  It  is  my 
weakness  and  my  want  of  courage  that  have  brought  on 
this  catastrophe.  I  shrank  from  the  struggle.  I  pur- 
chased my  domestic  peace  at  the  cost  of  your  future  in 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  3* 

the  world.  I  forgot  that  a  mother  has  sacred  duties 
towards  her  children." 

Mme.  Favoral  was  at  this  time  a  woman  of  some 
forty-three  years,  with  delicate  and  mild  features,  a 
countenance  overflowing  with  kindness,  and  whose 
whole  being  exhaled,  as  it  were,  an  exquisite  perfume  of 
noblesse  and  distinction. 

Happy,  she  might  have  been  beautiful  still, — of  that 
autumnal  beauty  whose  maturity  has  the  splendors  of 
the  luscious  fruits  of  the  later  season. 

But  she  had  suffered  so  much !  The  livid  paleness  of 
her  complexion,  the  rigid  fold  of  her  lips,  the  nervous 
shudders  that  shook  her  frame,  revealed  a  whole  exist- 
ence of  bitter  deceptions,  of  exhausting  struggles,  and 
of  proudly  concealed  humiliations. 

And  yet  every  thing  seemed  to  smile  upon  her  at  the 
outset  of  life. 

She  was  an  only  daughter ;  and  her  parents,  wealthy 
silk-merchants,  had  brought  her  up  like  the  daughter  of 
an  archduchess  destined  to  marry  some  sovereign  prince. 

But  at  fifteen  she  had  lost  her  mother.  Her  father, 
soon  tired  of  his  lonely  fireside,  commenced  to  seek 
away  from  home  some  diversion  from  his  sorrow. 

He  was  a  man  of  weak  mind, — one  of  those  marked 
in  advance  to  play  the  part  of  eternal  dupes.  Having 
money,  he  found  many  friends.  Having  once  tasted 
the  cup  of  facile  pleasures,  he  yielded  readily  to  its  in- 
toxication. Suppers,  cards,  amusements,  absorbed  his 
time,  to  the  utter  detriment  of  his  business.  And,  eigh- 
teen months  after  his  wife's  death,  he  had  already  spent 
a  large  portion  of  his  fortune,  when  he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  an  adventuress,  whom,  without  regard  for  his  daugh- 
ter, he  audaciously  brought  beneath  his  own  roof. 

In  provincial  cities,  where  everybody  knows  everybody 


32  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

else,  such  infamies  are  almost  impossible.  They  are  not 
quite  so  rare  in  Paris,  where  one  is,  so  to  speak,  lost  in 
the  crowd,  and  where  the  restraining  power  of  the  neigh- 
bor's opinion  is  lacking. 

For  two  years  the  poor  girl,  condemned  to  bear  this 
illegitimate  stepmother,  endured  nameless  sufferings. 

She  had  just  completed  her  eighteenth  year,  when,  one 
evening,  her  father  took  her  aside. 

"  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  marry  again,"  he  said ; 
"  but  I  wish  first  to  provide  you  with  a  husband.  I  have 
looked  for  one,  and  found  him.  He  is  not  very  brilliant 
perhaps ;  but  he  is,  it  seems,  a  good,  hard-working,  eco- 
nomical fellow,  who'll  make  his  way  in  the  world.  I 
had  dreamed  of  something  better  for  you;  but  times 
are  hard,  trade  is  dull :  in  short,  having  only  a  dowry  of 
twenty  thousand  francs  to  give  you,  I  have  no  right  to 
be  very  particular.  To-morrow  I'll  bring  you  my  can- 
didate." 

And,  sure  enough,  the  next  day  that  excellent  father 
introduced  M.  Vincent  Favoral  to  his  daughter. 

She  was  not  pleased  with  him;  but  she  could  hardly 
have  said  that  she  was  displeased. 

He  was,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  which  he  had  just 
reached,  a  man  so  utterly  lacking  in  individuality,  that 
he  could  scarcely  have  excited  any  feeling  either  of  sym- 
pathy or  affection. 

Suitably  dressed,  he  seemed  timid  and  awkward,  re- 
served, quite  diffident,  and  of  mediocre  intelligence.  He 
confessed  to  have  received  a  most  imperfect  education, 
and  declared  himself  quite  ignorant  of  life.  He  had 
scarcely  any  means  outside  his  profession.  He  was 
at  this  time  chief  accountant  in  a  large  factory  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  with  a  salary  of  four  thousand 
francs  a  year. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  33 

The  young  girl  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  Any  thing 
appeared  to  her  preferable  to  the  contact  of  a  woman 
whom  she  abhorred  and  despised. 

She  gave  her  consent ;  and,  twenty  days  after  the  first 
interview,  she  had  become  Mme.  Favoral. 

Alas !  six  weeks  had  not  elapsed,  before  she  knew  that 
she  had  but  exchanged  her  wretched  fate  for  a  more 
wretched  one  still. 

Not  that  her  husband  was  in  any  way  unkind  to  her 
(he  dared  not,  as  yet)  ;  but  he  had  revealed  himself 
enough  to  enable  her  to  judge  him.  He  was  one  of  those 
formidably  selfish  men  who  wither  every  thing  around 
them,  like  those  trees  within  the  shadow  of  which  noth- 
ing can  grow.  His  coldness  concealed  a  stupid  obsti- 
nacy ;  his  mildness,  an  iron  will. 

If  he  had  married,  'twas  because  he  thought  a  wife  a 
necessary  adjunct,  because  he  desired  a  home  wherein  to 
command,  because,  above  all,  he  had  been  seduced  by 
the  dowry  of  twenty  thousand  francs. 

For  the  man  had  one  passion, — money.  Under  his 
placid  countenance  revolved  thoughts  of  the  most  burn- 
ing covetousness.  He  wished  to  be  rich. 

Now,  as  he  had  no  illusion  whatever  upon  his  own 
merits,  as  he  knew  himself  to  be  perfectly  incapable  of 
any  of  those  daring  conceptions  which  lead  to  rapid 
fortune,  as  he  was  in  no  wise  enterprising,  he  conceived 
but  one  means  to  achieve  wealth,  that  is,  to  save,  to 
economize,  to  stint  himself,  to  pile  penny  upon  penny. 

His  profession  of  accountant  had  furnished  him  with 
a  number  of  instances  of  the  financial  power  of  the  penny 
daily  saved,  and  invested  so  as  to  yield  its  maximum 
of  interest. 

If  ever  his  blue  eye  became  animated,  it  was  when  he 
calculated  what  would  be  at  the  present  time  the  capital 


34  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

produced  by  a  simple  penny  placed  at  five  per  cent  inter- 
est the  year  of  the  birth  of  our  Saviour. 

For  him  this  was  sublime.  He  conceived  nothing  be- 
yond. One  penny !  He  wished,  he  said,  he  could  have 
lived  eighteen  hundred  years,  to  follow  the  evolutions 
of  that  penny,  to  see  it  grow  tenfold,  a  hundred-fold, 
produce,  swell,  enlarge,  and  become,  after  centuries,  mil- 
lions and  hundreds  of  millions. 

In  spite  of  all,  he  had,  during  the  early  months  of  his 
marriage,  allowed  his  wife  to  have  a  young  servant.  He 
gave  her  from  time  to  time,  a  five- franc-piece,  and  took 
her  to  the  country  on  Sundays. 

This  was  the  honeymoon ;  and,  as  he  declared  himself, 
this  life  of  prodigalities  could  not  last. 

Under  a  futile  pretext,  the  little  servant  was  dis- 
missed. He  tightened  the  strings  of  his  purse.  The 
Sunday  excursions  were  suppressed. 

To  mere  economy  succeeded  the  niggardly  parsimony 
which  counts  the  grains  of  salt  in  the  pot-au-feu,  which 
weighs  the  soap  for  the  washing,  and  measures  the  even- 
ing's allowance  of  candle. 

Gradually  the  accountant  took  the  habit  of  treating  his 
young  wife  like  a  servant,  whose  honesty  is  suspected ; 
or  like  a  child,  whose  thoughtlessness  is  to  be  feared. 
Every  morning  he  handed  her  the  money  for  the  ex- 
penses of  the  day ;  and  every  evening  he  expressed  his 
surprise  that  she  had  not  made  better  use  of  it.  He  ac- 
cused her  of  allowing  herself  to  be  grossly  cheated,  or 
even  to  be  in  collusion  with  the  dealers.  He  charged 
her  with  being  foolishly  extravagant ;  which  fact,  how- 
ever, he  added,  did  not  surprise  him  much  on  the  part  of 
the  daughter  of  a  man  who  had  dissipated  a  large  for- 
tune. 

To  cap  the  climax,.  Vincent  Favoral  was  on  the  worst 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  35 

possible  terms  with  his  father-in-law.  Of  the  twenty 
thousand  francs  of  his  wife's  dowry,  twelve  thous- 
and only  had  been  paid,  and  it  was  in  vain  that  he 
clamored  for  the  balance.  The  silk-merchant's  business 
had  become  unprofitable ;  he  was  on  the  verge  of  bank- 
ruptcy. The  eight  thousand  francs  seemed  in  imminent 
danger. 

His  wife  alone  he  held  responsible  for  this  deception. 
He  repeated  to  her  constantly  that  she  had  connived  with 
her  father  to  "  take  him  in,"  to  fleece  him,  to  ruin  him. 

What  an  existence !  Certainly,  had  the  unhappy  wo- 
man known  where  to  find  a  refuge,  she  would  have  fled 
from  that  home  where  each  of  her  days  was  but  a  pro- 
tracted torture.  But  where  could  she  go?  Of  whom 
could  she  beg  a  shelter  ? 

She  had  terrible  temptations  at  this  time,  when  she 
was  not  yet  twenty,  and  they  called  her  the  beautiful 
Mme.  Favoral. 

Perhaps  she  would  have  succumbed,  when  she  discov- 
ered that  she  was  about  to  become  a  mother.  One  year, 
day  for  day,  after  her  marriage,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son, 
who  received  the  name  of  Maxence. 

The  accountant  was  but  indifferently  pleased  at  the 
coming  of  this  son:  It  was,  above  all,  a  cause  of  ex- 
pense. He  had  been  compelled  to  give  some  thirty  francs 
to  a  nurse,  and  almost  twice  as  much  for  the  baby's 
clothes.  Then  a  child  breaks  up  the  regularity  of  one's 
habits ;  and  he,  as  he  affirmed,  was  attached  to  his  as 
much  as  to  life  itself.  And  now  he  saw  his  household 
disturbed,  the  hours  of  his  meals  altered,  his  own  im- 
portance reduced,  his  authority,  even  ignored. 

But  what  mattered  now  to  his  young  wife  the  ill-hu- 
mor which  he  no  longer  took  the  trouble  to  conceal? 
Mother,  she  defied  her  tyrant. 


36  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Now,  at  least,  she  had  in  this  world  a  being  upon 
whom  she  could  lavish  all  her  caresses  so  brutally  re- 
pelled. There  existed  a  soul  within  which  she  reigned 
supreme.  What  troubles  would  not  a  smile  of  her  son 
have  made  her  forget  ? 

With  the  admirable  instinct  of  an  egotist,  M.  Favoral 
understood  so  well  what  passed  in  the  mind  of  his  wife, 
that  he  dared  not  complain  too  much  of  what  the  little 
fellow  cost.  He  made  up  his  mind  bravely;  and  when 
four  years  later,  his  daughter  Gilberte  was  born,  instead 
of  lamenting, — 

"  Bash !  "  said  he :  "  God  blesses  large  families." 


VII. 

BUT  already,  at  this  time,  M.  Vincent  Favoral's  situa- 
tion had  been  singularly  modified. 

The  revolution  of  1848  had  just  taken  place.  The  fac- 
tory in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  where  he  was  em- 
ployed, had  been  compelled  to  close  its  doors. 

One  evening,  as  he  came  home  at  the  usual  hour,  he 
announced  that  he  had  been  discharged. 

Mme.  Favoral  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what  her 
husband  might  be,  without  work,  and  deprived  of  his 
salary. 

"  What  is  to  become  of  us  ?  "  she  murmured. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Visibly  he  was  much  ex- 
cited. His  cheeks  were  flushed ;  his  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Bash !  "  he  said :  "  we  shan't  starve  for  all  that." 

And,  as  his  wife  was  gazing  at  him  in  astonish- 
ment,— 

"  Well,"  he  went  on,  "  what  are  you  looking  at?    It 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  37 

is  so :  I  know  many  a  one  who  affects  to  live  on  his  in- 
come, and  who  are  not  as  well  off  as  we  are. ' 

It  was,  for  over  six  years  since  he  was  married,  the 
first  time  that  he  spoke  of  his  business  otherwise  than 
to  groan  and  complain,  to  accuse  fate,  and  curse  the 
high  price  of  living.  The  very  day  before,  he  had  de- 
clared himself  ruined  by  the  purchase  of  a  pair  of  shoes 
for  Maxence.  The  change  was  so  sudden  and  so  great, 
that  she  hardly  knew  what  to  think,  and  wondered  if 
grief  at  the  loss  of  his  situation  had  not  somewhat  dis- 
turbed his  mind.  ^ 

"  Such  are  women,"  he  went  on  with  a  giggle.  "  Re- 
sults astonish  them,  because  they  know  nothing  of  the 
means  used  to  bring  them  about.  Am  I  a  fool,  then? 
Would  I  impose  upon  myself  privations  of  all  sorts,  if 
it  were  to  accomplish  nothing  ?  Parbleu !  I  love  fine  living 
too,  I  do,  and  good  dinners  at  the  restaurant,  and  the 
theatre,  and  the  nice  little  excursions  in  the  country. 
But  I  want  to  be  rich.  At  the  price  of  all  the  comforts 
which  I  have  not  had,  I  have  saved  a  capital,  the  income 
of  which  will  support  us  all.  Eh,  eh !  That's  the  power 
of  the  little  penny  put  out  to  fatten !  " 

As  she  went  to  bed  that  night,  Mme.  Favoral  felt 
more  happy  than  she  had  done  since  her  mother's 
death.  She  almost  forgave  her  husband  his  sordid  parsi- 
mony, and  the  humiliations  he  had  heaped  upon 
her. 

"  Well,  be  it  so,"  she  thought.  "  I  shall  have  lived 
miserably,  I  shall  have  endured  nameless  sufferings ;  but 
my  children  shall  be  rich,  their  life  shall  be  easy  and 
pleasant." 

The  next  day  M.  Favoral's  excitement  had  completely 
abated.  Manifestly  he  regretted  his  confidences. 

"  You  must  not  think  on  that  account  that  you  can 


38  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

waste  and  pillage  every  thing,"  he  declared  rudely.  "  Be- 
sides, I  have  greatly  exaggerated." 

And  he  started  in  search  of  a  situation. 

To  find  one  was  likely  to  be  difficult.  Times  of  revo- 
lution are  not  exactly  propitious  to  industry.  Whilst  the 
parties  discussed  in  the  Chamber,  there  were  on  the  street 
twenty  thousand  clerks,  who,  every  morning  as  they 
rose,  wondered  where  they  would  dine  that  day. 

For  want  of  any  thing  better,  Vincent  Favoral  under- 
took to  keep  books  in  various  places, — an  hour  here,  an 
hour  there,  twice  a  week  in  one  house,  four  times  in  an- 
other. 

In  this  way  he  earned  as  much  and  more  than  he  did 
at  the  factory ;  but  the  business  did  not  suit  him. 

What  he  liked  was  the  office  from  which  one  does  not 
stir,  the  stove-heated  atmosphere,  the  elbow-worn  desk, 
the  leather-cushioned  chair,  the  black  alpaca  sleeves  over 
the  coat.  The  idea  that  he  should  on  one  and  the  same 
day  have  to  do  with  five  or  six  different  houses,  and  be 
compelled  to  walk  an  hour,  to  go  and  work  another  hour 
at  the  other  end  of  Paris,  fairly  irritated  him.  He  found 
himself  out  of  his  reckoning,  like  a  horse  who  has  turned 
a  mill  for  ten  years,  if  he  is  made  to  trot  straight  before 
him. 

So,  one  morning,  he  gave  up  the  whole  thing,  swear- 
ing that  he  would  rather  remain  idle  until  he  could  find 
a  place  suited  to  his  taste  and  his  convenience;  and,  in 
the  mean  time,  all  they  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  put 
a  little  less  butter  in  the  soup,  and  a  little  more  water 
in  the  wine. 

He  went  out,  nevertheless,  and  remained  until  dinner- 
time. And  he  did  the  same  the  next  and  the  following 
days. 

He  started  off  the  moment  he  had  swallowed  the  last 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  39 

mouthful  of  his  breakfast,  came  home  at  six  o'clock, 
dined  in  haste,  and  disappeared  again,  not  to  return  until 
about  midnight.  He  had  hours  of  delirious  joy,  and  mo- 
menis  of  frightful  discouragement.  Sometimes  he  seemed 
horribly  uneasy. 

"  What  can  he  be  doing?  "  thought  Mme.  Favoral. 

She  ventured  to  ask  him  the  question  one  morning, 
when  he  was  in  fine  humor. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  am  I  not  the  master?  I  am 
operating  at  the  bourse,  that's  all !  " 

He  could  hardly  have  owned  to  any  thing  that  would 
"have  frightened  the  poor  woman  as  much. 

"  Are  you  not  afraid,"  she  objected,  "  to  lose  all  we 
have  so  painfully  accumulated  ?  We  have  children  " — 

He  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  child  ?  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  or  do 
I  look  to  you  like  a  man  so  easy  to  be  duped  ?  Mind  to 
economize  in  your  household  expenses,  and  don't  meddle 
with  my  business." 

And  he  continued.  And  he  must  have  been  lucky  in 
his  operations;  for  he  had  never  been  so  pleasant  at 
home.  All  his  ways  had  changed.  He  had  had  clothes 
made  at  a  first-class  tailor's,  and  was  evidently  trying 
to  look  elegant.  He  gave  up  his  pipe,  and  smoked  only 
cigars.  He  got  tired  of  giving  every  morning  the  money 
for  the  house,  and  took  the  habit  of  handing  it  to  his 
wife  every  week,  on  Sunday.  A  mark  of  vast  confidence, 
as  he  observed  to  her.  And  so,  the  first  time, — 

"  Be  careful,"  he  said,  "  that  you  don't  find  yourself 
penniless  before  Thursday." 

He  became  also  more  communicative.  Often  during 
the  dinner,  he  would  tell  what  he  had  heard  during  the 
day,  anecdotes,  gossip.  He  enumerated  the  persons  with 
whom  he  had  spoken.  He  named  a  number  of  people 


40  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

whom  he  called  his  friends,  and  whose  names  Mme.  Fa- 
voral  carefully  stored  away  in  her  memory. 

There  was  one  especially,  who  seemed  to  inspire  him 
with  a  profound  respect"!  a  boundless  admiration,  and  of 
whom  he  never  tired  of  talking.  He  was,  said  he,  a  man 
of  his  age, — M.  de  Thaller,  the  Baron  de  Thaller. 

"  This  one,"  he  kept  repeating,  "  is  really  mad :  he  is 
rich,  he  has  ideas,  he'll  go  far.  It  would  be  a  great  piece 
of  luck  if  I  could  get  him  to  do  something  for  me  I  " 

Until  at  last  one  day, — 

"Your  parents  were  very  rich  once?"  he  asked  his 
wife. 

"  I  have  heard  it  said,"  she  answered. 

"  They  spent  a  good  deal  of  money,  did  they  not  ? 
They  had  friends :  they  gave  dinner-parties." 

"  Yes,  they  received  a  good  deal  of  company." 

"  You  remember  that  time  ?  " 

"  Surely  I  do." 

"  So  that  if  I  should  take  a  fancy  to  receive  some  one 
here,  some  one  of  note,  you  would  know  how  to  do 
things  properly  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

He  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  like  a  man  who 
thinks  before  taking  an  important  decision,  and  then, — 

"  I  wish  to  invite  a  few  persons  to  dinner,"  he  said. 

S.he  could  scarcely  believe  her  ears.  He  had  never  re- 
ceived at  his  table  any  one  but  a  fellow-clerk  at  the  fac- 
tory, named  Desclavettes,  who  had  just  married  the 
daughter  of  a  dealer  in  bronzes,  and  succeeded  to  his 
business. 

"  Is  it  possible?  "  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral. 

"  So  it  is.  The  question  is  now,  How  much  would  a 
first-class  dinner  cost,  the  best  of  every  thing?  " 

"  That  depends  upon  the  number  of  guests." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  41 

"  Say  three  or  four  persons." 

The  poor  woman  set  herself  to  figuring  diligently  for 
s*ome  time ;  and  then  timidly,  for  the  sum  seemed  formi- 
dable to  her, — 

"  I  think,''  she  began,  "  that  with  a  hundred  francs  " — 

Her  husband  commenced  whistling. 

"  You'll  need  that  for  the  wines  alone/'  he  interrupted. 
"'  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?  But  here,  don't  let  us  go 
into  figures.  Do  as  your  parents  did  when  they  did  their 
best;  and,  if  it's  well,  I  shall  not  complain  of  the  ex- 
pense. Take  a  good  cook,  hire  a  waiter  who  understands 
his  business  well." 

She  was  utterly  confounded;  and  yet  she  was  not  at 
the  end  of  her  surprises. 

Soon  M.  Favoral  declared  that  their  table-ware  was 
not  suitable,  and  that  he  must  buy  a  new  set.  He  dis- 
covered a  hundred  purchases  to  be  made,  and  swore  that 
he  would  make  them.  He  even  hesitated  a  moment 
about  renewing  the  parlor  furniture,  although  it  was  in 
tolerably  good  condition  still,  and  was  a  present  from 
his  father-in-law. 

And,  having  finished  his  inventory, — 

"  And  you,"  he  asked  his  wife :  "  what  dress  will  you 
wear?" 

"  I  have  my  black  silk  dress  " — 

He  stopped  her. 

"  Which  means  that  you  have  none  at  all,"  he  said. 
"  Very  well.  You  must  go  this  very  day  and  get  your- 
self one, — a  very  handsome,  a  magnificent  one;  and 
you'll  send  it  to  be  made  to  a  fashionable  dressmaker. 
And  at  the  same  time  you  had  better  get  some  little 
suits  for  Maxence  and  Gilberte.  Here  are  a  thousand 
francs." 

Completely  bewildered. — 


42  O'iHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Who  in  the  world  are  you  going  to  invite,  then  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  The  Baron  and  the  Baroness  de  Thaller,"  he  replied 
with  an  emphasis  full  of  conviction.  "  So  try  and  dis- 
tinguish yourself.  Our  fortune  is  at  stake." 

That  this  dinner  was  a  matter  of  considerable  import, 
Mme.  Favoral  could  not  doubt  when  she  saw  her  hus- 
band's fabulous  liberality  continue  without  flinching  for 
a  number  of  days. 

Ten  times  of  an  afternoon  he  would  come  home  to  tell 
his  wife  the  name  of  some  dish  that  had  been  mentioned 
before  him,  or  to  consult  her  on  the  subject  of  some  ex- 
otic viand  he  had  just  noticed  in  some  shop-window. 
Daily  he  brought  home  wines  of  the  most  fantastic  vin- 
tages,— those  wines  which  dealers  manufacture  for  the 
special  use  of  verdant  fools,  and  which  they  sell  in  odd- 
shaped  bottles  previously  overlaid  with  secular  dust  and 
cobwebs. 

He  subjected  to  a  protracted  cross-examination  the 
cook  whom  Mme.  Favoral  had  engaged,  and  demanded 
that  she  should  enumerate  the  houses  where  she  had 
cooked.  He  absolutely  required  the  man  who  was  to 
wait  at  the  table  to  exhibit  the  dress-coat  he  was  to  wear. 

The  great  day  having  come,  he  did  not  stir  from  the 
house,  going  and  coming  from  the  kitchen  to  the  dining- 
room,  uneasy,  agitated,  unable  to  stay  in  one  place.  He 
breathed  only  when  he  had  seen  the  table  set  and  loaded 
with  the  new  china  he  had  purchased  and  the  magnificent 
silver  he  had  gone  to  hire  in  person. 

And  when  his  young  wife  made  her  appearance,  look- 
ing lovely  in  her  new  dress,  and  leading  by  the  hands 
the  two  children,  Maxence  and  Gilberte,  in  their  new 
suits, — 

"  That's  perfect,"  he  exclaimed,    highly    delighted. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  43 

"  Nothing  could  be  better.  Now,  let  our  four  guests 
come !  " 

They  arrived  a  few  minutes  before  seven,  in  two  car- 
riages, the  magnificence  of  which  astonished  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles. 

And,  the  presentations  over,  Vincent  Favoral  had  at 
last  the  ineffable  satisfaction  to  see  seated  at  his  table  the 
Baron  and  Baroness  de  Thaller,  M.  Saint  Pavin,  who 
called  himself  a  financial  editor,  and  M.  Jules  Jottras, 
of  the  house  of  Jottras  &  Brother. 

It  was  with  an  eager  curiosity  that  Mme.  Favoral  ob- 
served these  people  whom  her  husband  called  his  friends, 
and  whom  she  saw  herself  for  the  first  time. 

M.  de  Thaller,  who  could  not  then  have  been  much 
over  thirty,  was  already  a  man  without  any  particular 
age. 

Cold,  stiff,  aping  evidently  the  English  style,  he  ex- 
pressed himself  in  brief  sentences,  and  with  a  strong 
foreign  accent.  Nothing  to  surprise  on  his  countenance. 
He  had  the  forehead  prominent,  the  eyes  of  a  dull  blue, 
and  the  nose  very  thin.  His  scanty  hair  was  spread  over 
the  top  of  his  head  with  labored  symmetry ;  and  his  red, 
thick,  and  carefully-trimmed  whiskers  seemed  to  engross 
much  of  his  attention. 

M.  Saint  Pavin  had  not  the  same  stiff  manner.  Care- 
less in  his  dress,  he  lacked  breeding.  He  was  a  robust 
fellow,  dark  and  bearded,  with  thick  lips,  the  eye  bright 
and  prominent,  spreading  upon  the  table-cloth  broad 
hands  ornamented  at  the  joints  with  small  tufts  of  hair, 
speaking  loud,  laughing  noisily,  eating  much  and  drink- 
ing more. 

By  the  side  of  him,  M.  Jules  Jottras,  although  looking 
like  a  fashion-plate,  did  not  show  to  much  advantage. 
Delicate,  blonde,  sallow,  almost  beardless,  M.  Jottras  dis- 


44  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

tinguished  himself  only  by  a  sort  of  unconscious  impu- 
dence, a  harmless  cynicism,  and  a  sort  of  spasmodic 
giggle,  that  shook  the  eye-glasses  which  he  wore  stuck 
over  his  nose. 

But  it  was  above  all  Mme.  de  Thaller  who  excited 
Mme.  Favoral's  apprehensions. 

Dressed  with  a  magnificence  of  at  least  questionable 
taste,  very  much  decollate,  wearing  large  diamonds  at 
her  ears,  and  rings  on  all  her  fingers,  the  young  baroness 
was  insolently  handsome,  of  a  beauty  sensuous  even  to 
coarseness.  With  hair  of  a  bluish  black,  twisted  over  the 
neck  in  heavy  ringlets,  she  had  skin  of  a  pearly  white- 
ness, lips  redder  than  blood,  and  great  eyes  that  threw 
flames  from  beneath  their  long,  curved  lashes.  It  was 
the  poetry  of  flesh ;  and  one  could  not  help  admiring. 
Did  she  speak,  however,  or  make  a  gesture,  all  admira- 
tion vanished.  The  voice  was  vulgar,  the  motion  com- 
mon. Did  M.  Jouras  venture  upon  a  double-entendre, 
she  would  throw  herself  back  upon  her  chair  to  laugh, 
stretching  her  neck,  and  thrusting  her  throat  forward. 

Wholly  absorbed  in  the  care  of  his  guests,  M.  Favoral 
remarked  nothing.  He  only  thought  of  loading  the 
plates,  and  filling  the  glasses,  complaining  that  they  ate 
and  drank  nothing,  asking  anxiously  if  the  cooking  was 
not  good,  if  the  wines  were  bad,  and  almost  driving 
the  waiter  out  of  his  wits  with  questions  and  sugges- 
tions. 

It  is  a  fact,  that  neither  M.  de  Thaller  nor  M.  Jottras 
had  much  appetite.  But  M.  Saint  Pavin  officiated  for 
all ;  and  the  sole  task  of  keeping  up  with  him  caused  M. 
Favoral  to  become  visibly  animated. 

His  cheeks  were  much  flushed,  when,  having  passed 
the  champagne  all  around,  he  raised  his  froth-tipped 
glass,  exclaiming, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  45 

"  I  drink  to  the  success  of  the  business." 

"  To  the  success  of  the  business,"  echoed  the  others, 
touching  his  glass. 

And  a  few  moments  later  they  passed  into  the  parlor 
to  take  coffee. 

This  toast  had  caused  Mme.  Favoral  no  little  uneasi- 
ness. But  she  found  it  impossible  to  ask  a  single  ques- 
tion ;  Mme  de  Thaller  dragging  her  almost  by  force  to  a 
seat  by  her  side  on  the  sofa,  pretending  that  two  women 
always  have  secrets  to  exchange,  even  when  they  see 
each  other  for  the  first  time. 

The  young  baroness  was  fully  au  fait  in  matters  of 
bonnets  and  dresses;  and  it  was  with  giddy  volubility 
that  she  asked  Mme.  Favoral  the  names  of  her  milliner 
and  her  dressmaker,  and  to  what  jeweller  she  intrusted 
her  diamonds  to  be  reset. 

This  looked  so  much  like  a  joke,  that  the  poor  house- 
keeper of  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  could  not  help  smiling  whilst 
answering  that  she  had  no  dressmaker,  and  that,  having 
no  diamonds,  she  had  no  possible  use  for  the  services  of 
a  jeweller. 

The  other  declared  she  could  not  get  over  it.  No  dia- 
monds! That  was  a  misfortune  exceeding  all.  And 
quick  she  seized  the  opportunity  charitably  to  enumerate 
the  parures  in  her  jewel-case,  and  laces  in  her  drawers, 
and  the  dresses  in  her  wardrobes.  In  the  first  place,  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  her,  she  swore,  to  live 
with  a  husband  either  miserly  or  poor.  Hers  had  just 
presented  her  with  a  lovely  coupe,  lined  with  yellow 
satin,  a  perfect  bijou.  And  she  made  good  use  of  it  too ; 
for  she  loved  to  go  about.  She  spent  her  days  shopping, 
or  riding  in  the  Bois.  Every  evening  she  had  the  choice 
of  the  theatre  or  a  ball,  often  both.  The  genre  theatres 
were  those  she  preferred.  To  be  sure,  the  opera  and  the 


46  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Italiens  were  more  stylish ;  but  she  could  not  help  gaping 
there. 

Then  she  wished  to  kiss  the  children;  and  Gilberte 
and  Maxence  had  to  be  brought  in.  She  adored  chil- 
dren, she  vowed :  it  was  her  weakness,  her  passion.  She 
had  herself  a  little  girl,  eighteen  months  old,  called 
Cesarine,  to  whom  she  was  devoted;  and  certainly  she 
would  have  brought  her,  had  she  not  feared  she  would 
have  been  in  the  way. 

All  this  verbiage  sounded  like  a  confused  murmur  to 
Mme.  Favoral's  ears.  "  Yes,  no,"  she  answered,  hardly 
knowing  to  what  she  did  answer. 

Her  head  heavy  with  a  vague  apprehension,  it  re- 
quired her  utmost  attention  to  observe  her  husband  and 
his  guests. 

Standing  by  the  mantel-piece,  smoking  their  cigars, 
they  conversed  with  considerable  animation,  but  not  loud 
enough  to  enable  her  to  hear  all  they  said.  It  was  only 
when  M.  Saint  Pavin  spoke  that  she  understood  that 
they  were  still  discussing  the  "  business ;  "  for  he  spoke 
of  articles  to  publish,  stocks  to  sell,  dividends  to  dis- 
tribute, sure  profits  to  reap. 

They  all,  at  any  rate,  seemed  to  agree  perfectly ;  and 
at  a  certain  moment  she  saw  her  husband  and  M.  de 
Thaller  strike  each  other's  hand,  as  people  do  who  ex- 
change a  pledge. 

Eleven  o'clock  struck. 

M.  Favoral  was  insisting  to  make  his  guests  accept  a 
cup  of  tea  or  a  glass  of  punch ;  but  M.  de  Thaller  de- 
clared that  he  had  some  work  to  do,  and  that,  his  carriage 
having  come,  he  must  go. 

And  go  he  did,  taking  with  him  the  baroness,  followed 
by  M.  Saint  Pavin  and  M.  Jottras. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  47 

And  when,  the  door  having  closed  upon  them,  M. 
Favoral  found  himself  alone  with  his  wife, — 

"  Well,"  he  exclaimed,  swelling  with  gratified  vanity, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  our  friends  ?  " 

"  They  surprised  me,"  she  answered. 

He  fairly  jumped  at  that  word. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  ?  " 

Then,  timidly,  and  with  infinite  precautions,  she  com- 
menced explaining  that  M.  de  Thaller's  face  inspired  her 
with  no  confidence ;  that  M.  Jottras  had  seemed  to  her  a 
very  impudent  personage;  that  M.  Saint  Pavin  ap- 
peared low  and  vulgar;  and  that,  finally,  the  young 
baroness  had  given  her  of  herself  the  most  singular 
idea. 

M.  Favoral  refused  to  hear  more. 

"  It's  because  you  have  never  seen  people  of  the  best 
society,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Excuse  me.     Formerly,  during  my  mother's  life  " — 

"Eh!  Your  mother  never  received  but  shop-keep- 
ers." 

The  poor  woman  dropped  her  head. 

"  I  beg  of  you,  Vincent,"  she  insisted,  "  before  doing 
any  thing  with  these  new  friends,  think  well,  consult  " — 

He  burst  out  laughing. 

"Are  you  not  afraid  that  they  will  cheat  me?"  he 
said, — "  people  ten  times  as  rich  as  we  are.  Here,  don't 
let  us  speak  of  it  any  more,  and  let  us  go  to  bed.  You'll 
see  what  this  dinner  will  bring  us,  and  whether  I  ever 
have  reason  to  regret  the  money  we  have  spent." 


48  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 


VIII. 

WHEN,  on  the  morning  after  this  dinner,  which  was 
to  form  an  era  in  her  life,  Mme.  Favoral  woke  up,  her 
husband  was  already  up,  pencil  in  hand,  and  busy  figur- 
ing. 

The  charm  had  vanished  with  the  fumes  of  the  cham- 
pagne ;  and  the  clouds  of  the  worst  days  were  gathering 
upon  his  brow. 

Noticing  that  his  wife  was  looking  at  him, — 

"  It's  expensive  work,"  he  said  in  a  bluff  tone,  "  to  set 
a  business  going ;  and  it  wouldn  t  do  to  commence  over 
again  every  day." 

To  hear  him  speak,  one  would  have  thought  that  Mme. 
Favoral  alone,  by  dint  of  hard  begging,  had  persuaded 
him,  into  that  expense  which  he  now  seemed  to 
regret  so  much.  She  quietly  called  his  attention  to 
the  fact,  reminding  him  that,  far  from  urging,  she 
had  endeavored  to  hold  him  back ;  repeating  that  she 
augured  ill  of  that  business  over  which  he  was  so 
enthusiastic,  and  that,  if  he  would  believe  her,  he 
would  not  venture. 

"  Do  you  even  know  what  the  project  is?  "  he  inter- 
rupted rudely. 

"  You  have  not  told  me." 

"  Very  well,  then :  leave  me  in  peace  with  your  pre- 
sentiments. You  dislike  my  friends;  and  I  saw  very 
well  how  you  treated  Mme.  de  Thaller.  But  I  am  the 
master;  and  what  I  have  decided  shall  be.  Besides,  I 
have  signed.  Once  for  all,  I  forbid  you  ever  speaking 
to  me  again  on  that  subject." 

Whereupon,  having  dressed  himself  with  much  care, 
he  started  off,  saying  that  he  was  expected  at  breakfast 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  49 

by  Saint  Pavin,  the  financial  editor,  and  by  M.  Jottras, 
of  the  house  of  Jotiras  &  Brother. 

A  shrewd  woman  would  not  have  given  it  up  so  easy, 
and,  in  the  end,  would  probably  have  mastered  the 
despot,  whose  intellect  was  far  from  brilliant.  But 
Mme.  Favoral  was  too  proud  to  be  shrewd ;  and  besides, 
the  springs  of  her  will  had  been  broken  by  the  successive 
oppression  of  an  odious  stepmother  and  a  brutal  master. 
Her  abdication  of  all  was  complete.  Wounded,  she  kept 
the  secret  of  her  wound,  hung  her  head,  and  said  noth- 
ing. 

She  did  not,  therefore,  venture  a  single  allusion ;  and 
nearly  a  week  elapsed,  during  which  the  names  of  her 
late  guests  were  not  once  mentioned. 

It  was  through  a  newspaper,  which  M.  Favoral  had 
forgotten  in  the  parlor,  that  she  learned  that  the  Baron 
de  Thaller  had  just  founded  a  new  stock  company,  the 
Mutual  Credit  Society,  with  a  capital  of  several  millions. 

Below  the  advertisement,  which  was  printed  in  enor- 
mous letters,  came  a  long  article,  in  which  it  was  demon- 
strated that  the  new  company  was,  at  the  same  time,  a 
patriotic  undertaking  and  an  institution  of  credit  of 
the  first  class ;  that  it  supplied  a  great  public  want ;  that 
it  would  be  of  inestimable  benefit  to  industry;  that  its 
profits  were  assured ;  and  that  to  subscribe  to  its  stock 
was  simply  to  draw  short  bills  upon  fortune. 

Already  somewhat  re-assured  by  the  reading  of  this 
article,  Mme.  Favoral  became  quite  so  when  she  read  the 
names  of  the  board  of  directors.  Nearly  all  were  titled, 
and  decorated  with  many  foreign  orders;  and  the  re- 
mainder were  bankers,  office-holders,  and  even  some  ex- 
ministers. 

"  I  must  have  been  mistaken,"  she  thought,  yielding 
unconsciously  to  the  influence  of  printed  evidence. 


50  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  no  objection  occurred  to  her,  when,  a  few  days 
later,  her  husband  told  her, — 

"  I  have  the  situation  I  wanted.  I  am  head  cashier 
of  the  company  of  which  M.  de  Thaller  is  manager." 

That  was  all.  Of  the  nature  of  this  society,  of  i:he 
advantages  which  it  offered  him,  not  one  word. 

Only  by  the  way  in  which  he  expressed  himself  did 
Mme.  Favoral  judge  that  he  must  have  been  well 
treated ;  and  he  further  confirmed  her  in  that  opinion  by 
granting  her,  of  his  own  accord,  a  few  additional  francs 
for  the  daily  expenses  of  the  house. 

"  We  must,"  he  declared  on  this  memorable  occasion, 
"  do  honor  to  our  social  position,  whatever  it  may  cost." 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  seemed  heedful  of 
public  opinion.  He  recommended  his  wife  to  be  careful 
of  her  dress  and  of  that  of  the  children,  and  re-engaged 
a  servant.  He  expressed  the  wish  of  enlarging  their 
circle  of  acquaintances,  and  inaugurated  his  Saturday 
dinners,  to  which  came  assiduously,  M.  and  Mme.  Des- 
clavettes,  M.  Chapelain  the  attorney,  the  old  man  Desor- 
meaux,  and  a  few  others. 

As  to  himself  he  gradually  settled  down  into  those 
habits  from  which  he  was  nevermore  to  depart,  and  the 
chronometric  regularity  of  which  had  secured  him  the 
nickname  of  Old  Punctuality,  of  which  he  was  proud. 

In  all  other  respects  never  did  a  man,  to  such  a  degree, 
become  so  utterly  indifferent  to  his  wife  and  children. 
His  house  was  for  him  but  a  mere  hotel,  where  he  slept, 
and  took  his  evening  meal.  He  never  thought  of  ques- 
tioning his  wife  as  to  the  use  of  her  time,  and  what  she 
did  in  his  absence.  Provided  she  did  not  ask  him  for 
money,  and  was  there  when  he  came  home,  he  was  satis- 
fied. ' 

Many  women,  at  Mme.  Favoral's  age,  might  have 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  51 

made  a  strange  use  of  that  insulting  indifference  and  of 
that  absolute  freedom. 

If  she  did  avail  herself  of  it,  it  was  solely  to  follow 
one  of  those  inspirations  which  can  only  spring  in  a 
mother's  heart. 

The  increase  in  the  budget  of  the  household  was  rela- 
tively large,  but  so  nicely  calculated,  that  she  had  not  one 
cent  more  that  she  could  call  her  own. 

With  the  most  intense  sorrow,  she  thought  that  her 
children  might  have  to  endure  the  humiliating  priva- 
tions which  had  made  her  own  life  wretched.  They 
were  too  young  yet  to  suffer  from  the  paternal  parsi- 
mony; but  they  would  grow;  their  desires  would  de- 
velop ;  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  her  to  grant  them 
the  most  innocent  satisfactions. 

Whilst  turning  over  and  over  in  her  mind  this  distress- 
ing thought,  she  remembered  a  friend  of  her  mother's, 
who  kept,  in  the  Rue  St.  Denis,  a  large  establishment  for 
the  sale  of  hosiery  and  woollen  goods.  There,  perhaps, 
lay  the  solution  of  the  problem.  She  called  to  see  the 
worthy  woman,  and,  without  even  needing  to  confess 
the  whole  truth  to  her,  she  obtained  sundry  pieces  of 
work,  ill  paid  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  which,  by  dint 
of  close  application,  might  be  made  to  yield  from  eight 
to  twelve  francs  a  week. 

From  this  time  she  never  lost  a  minute,  concealing 
her  work  as  if  it  were  an  evil  act. 

She  knew  her  husband  well  enough  to  feel  certain 
that  he  would  break  out,  and  swear  that  he  spent  money 
enough  to  enable  his  wife  to  live  without  being  reduced 
to  making  a  workwoman  of  herself. 

But  what  joy,  the  day  when  she  hid  way  down  at  the 
bottom  of  a  drawer  the  first  twenty-franc-piece  she  had 
earned,  a  beautiful  gold-piece,  which  belonged  to  her 


52  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

without  contest,  and  which  she  might  spend  as  she 
pleased,  without  having  to  render  any  account  to  any 
one! 

And  with  what  pride,  from  week  to  week,  she  saw  her 
little  treasure  swell,  despite  the  drafts  she  made  upon  it, 
sometimes  to  buy  a  toy  for  Maxence,  sometimes  to  add  a 
few  ribbons  or  trinkets  to  Gilberte's  toilet ! 

This  was  the  happiest  time  of  her  life,  a  halt  in  that 
painful  journey  through  which  she  had  been  dragging 
herself  for  so  many  years.  Between  her  two  children, 
the  hours  flew  light  and  rapid  as  so  many  seconds.  If 
all  the  hopes  of  the  young  girl  and  of  the  woman  had 
withered  before  they  had  blossomed,  the  mother's  joys, 
at  least  should  not  fail  her.  Because,  whilst  the  present 
sufficed  to  her  modest  ambition,  the  future  had  ceased  to 
cause  her  any  uneasiness. 

No  reference  had  ever  been  made,  between  herself  and 
her  husband,  to  that  famous  dinner-party:  he  never 
spoke  to  her  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society ;  but  now  and 
then  he  allowed  some  words  or  exclamations  to  escape, 
which  she  carefully  recorded,  and  which  betrayed  a  pros- 
perous state  of  affairs. 

"  That  Thaller  is  a  tough  fellow !  "  he  would  exclaim, 
"  and  he  has  the  most  infernal  luck !  " 

And  at  other  times, — 

"  Two  or  three  more  operations  like  the  one  we 
have  just  successfully  wound  up,  and  we  can  shut  up 
shop!" 

From  all  this,  what  could  she  conclude,  if  not  that  he 
was  marching  with  rapid  strides  towards  that  fortune, 
the  object  of  all  his  ambition  ? 

Already  in  the  neighborhood  he  had  that  reputation 
to  be  very  rich,  which  is  the  beginning  of  riches  itself. 
He  was  admired  for  keeping  his  house  with  such  rigid 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  53 

economy ;  for  a  man  is  always  esteemed  who  has  money, 
and  does  not  spend  it. 

"  He  is  not  the  man  ever  to  squander  what  he  has," 
the  neighbors  repeated. 

The  persons  whom  he  received  on  Saturdays  believed 
him  more  than  comfortably  off.  When  M.  Desclavettes 
and  M.  Chapelain  had  complained  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tents, the  one  of  the  shop,  the  other  of  his  office,  they 
never  failed  to  add, — 

"  You  laugh  at  us,  because  you  are  engaged  in  large 
operations,  where  people  make  as  much  money  as  they 
like." 

They  seemed  to  hold  his  financial  capacities  in  high 
estimation.  They  consulted  him,  and  followed  his  ad- 
vice. 

M.  Desormeaux  was  wont  to  say, — 

"  Oh !  he  knows  what  he  is  about." 

And  Mme.  Favoral  tried  to  persuade  herself,  that,  in 
this  respect  at  least,  her  husband  was  a  remarkable  man. 
She  attributed  his  silence  and  his  distractions  to  the 
grave  cares  that  filled  his  mind.  In  the  same  manner 
that  he  had  once  announced  to  her  that  they  had  enough 
to  live  on,  she  expected  him,  some  fine  morning,  to  tell 
her  that  he  was  a  millionaire. 


IX. 

BUT  the  respite  granted  by  fate  to  Mme.  Favoral  was 
drawing  to  an  end :  her  trials  were  about  to  return  more 
poignant  than  ever,  occasioned,  this  time,  by  her  chil- 
dren, hitherto  her  whole  happiness  and  her  only  consola- 
tion. 

Maxence  was  nearly  twelve.     He  was  a  good  little 


54  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

fellow,  intelligent,  studious  at  times,  but  thoughtless  in 
the  extreme,  and  of  a  turbulence  which  nothing  could 
tame. 

At  the  Massin  School,  where  he  had  been  sent,  he 
made  his  teachers'  hair  turn  white ;  and  not  a  week  went 
by  that  he  did  not  signalize  himself  by  some  fresh  mis- 
deed. 

A  father  like  any  other  would  have  paid  but  slight  at- 
tention to  the  pranks  of  a  schoolboy,  who,  after  all, 
ranked  among  the  first  of  his  class,  and  of  whom  the 
teachers  themselves,  whilst  complaining,  said, — 

"  Bash !  What  matters  it,  since  the  heart  is  sound 
and  the  mind  sane  ?  " 

But  M.  Favoral  took  every  thing  tragically.  If  Max- 
ence  was  kept  in,  or  otherwise  punished,  he  pretended 
that  it  reflected  upon  himself,  and  that  his  son  was  dis- 
gracing him. 

If  a  report  came  home  with  this  remark,  "  execrable 
conduct,"  he  fell  into  the  most  violent  passion,  and 
seemed  to  lose  all  control  of  himself. 

"  At  your  age,"  he  would  shout  to  the  terrified  boy, 
"  I  was  working  in  a  factory,  and  earning  my  livelihood. 
Do  you  suppose  that  I  will  not  tire  of  making  sacrifices 
to  procure  you  the  advantages  of  an  education  which  I 
lacked  myself?  Beware.  Havre  is  not  far  off;  and 
cabin-boys  are  always  in  demand  there." 

If,  at  least,  he  had  confined  himself  to  these  admon- 
itions, which,  by  their  very  exaggeration,  failed  in  their 
object!  But  he  favored  mechanical  appliances  as  a 
necessary  means  of  sufficiently  impressing  reprimands 
upon  the  minds  of  young  people ;  and  therefore,  seizing 
his  cane,  he  would  beat  poor  Maxence  most  unmerci- 
fully, the  more  so  that  the  boy.  filled  with  pride,  would 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  55 

have  allowed  himself  to  be  chopped  to  pieces  rather  than 
utter  a  cry,  or  shed  a  tear. 

The  first  time  that  Mme.  Favoral  saw  her  son  struck, 
she  was  seized  with  one  of  those  wild  fits  of  anger  which 
do  not  reason,  and  never  forgive.  To  be  beaten  herself 
would  have  seemed  to  her  less  atrocious,  less  humiliat- 
ing. Hitherto  she  had  found  it  impossible  to  love  a  hus- 
band such  as  hers:  henceforth,  she  took  him  in  utter 
aversion :  he  inspired  her  with  horror.  She  looked  upon 
her  son  as  a  martyr  for  whom  she  could  hardly  ever  do 
enough. 

And  so,  after  these  harrowing  scenes,  she  would  press 
him  to  her  heart. in  the  most  passionate  embrace;  she 
would  cover  with  her  kisses  the  traces  of  the  blows ;  and 
she  would  strive,  by  the  most  delirious  caresses,  to 
make  him  forget  the  paternal  brutalities.  With  him  she 
sobbed.  Like  him,  she  would  shake  her  clinched  fists  in 
the  vacant  space,  exclaiming,  "  Coward,  tyrant,  assas- 
sin !  "  The  little  Gilberte  mingled  her  tears  with  theirs ; 
and,  pressed  against  each  other,  they  deplored  their  des- 
tiny, cursing  the  common  enemy,  the  head  of  the  fam- 
ily. 

Thus  did  Maxence  spend  his  boyhood  between  equally 
fatal  exaggerations,  between  the  revolting  brutalities  of 
his  father,  and  the  dangerous  caresses  of  his  mother; 
the  one  depriving  him  of  every  thing,  the  other  refusing 
him  nothing. 

For  Mme.  Favoral  had  now  found  a  use  for  her  hum- 
ble savings. 

If  the  idea  had  never  come  to  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  Society  to  put  a  few  sous  in  his  son's 
pocket,  the  too  weak  mother  would  have  suggested  to 
him  the  want  of  money  in  order  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  gratifying  it. 


56  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

She  who  had  suffered  so  many  humiliations  in  her 
life,  she  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  her  son  having  his 
pride  wounded,  and  being  unable  to  indulge  in  those 
little  trifling  expenses  which  are  the  vanity  of  school- 
boys. 

"  Here,  take  this,"  she  would  tell  him  on  holidays, 
slipping  a  few  francs  into  his  hands. 

Unfortunately,  to  her  present  she  joined  the  recom- 
mendation not  to  allow  his  father  to  know  any  thing 
about  it;  forgetting  that  she  was  thus  training  Max- 
ence  to  dissimulate,  warping  his  natural  sense  of  right, 
and  perverting  his  instincts. 

No,  she  gave;  and,  to  repair  the  gaps  thus  made  in 
her  treasure,  she  worked  to  the  point  of  ruining  her 
sight,  with  such  eager  zeal,  that  the  worthy  shop-keeper 
of  the  Rue  St.  Denis  asked  her  if  she  did  not  employ 
working  girls.  In  truth,  the  only  help  she  received  was 
from  Gilberte,  who,  at  the  age  of  eight,  already  knew 
how  to  make  herself  useful. 

And  this  is  not  all.  For  this  son,  in  anticipation  of 
growing  expenses,  she  stooped  to  expedients  which  for- 
merly would  have  seemed  to  her  unworthy  and  disgrace- 
ful. She  robbed  the  household,  cheating  on  her  own 
marketing.  She  went  so  far  as  to  confide  to  her  servant, 
and  to  make  of  the  girl  the  accomplice  of  her  operations. 
She  applied  all  her  ingenuity  to  serve  to  M.  Favoral 
dinners  in  which  the  excellence  of  the  dressing  concealed 
the  want  of  solid  substance.  And  on  Sunday,  when  she 
rendered  her  weekly  accounts,  it  was  without  a  blush 
that  she  increased  by  a  few  centimes  the  price  of  each 
object,  rejoicing  when  she  had  thus  scraped  a  dozen 
francs,  and  finding,  to  justify  herself  to  her  own  eyes, 
those  sophisms  which  passion  never  lacks. 

At  first  Maxence  was  too  young  to  w.onder  from  what 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  57 

sources  his  mother  drew  the  money  she  lavished  upon 
his  schoolboy  fancies.  She  recommended  him  to  hide 
from  his  father:  he  did  so,  and  thought  it  perfectly 
natural. 

As  he  grew  older,  he  learned  to  discern. 

The  moment  came  when  he  opened  his  eyes  upon  the 
system  under  which  the  paternal  household  was  man- 
aged. He  noticed  there  that  anxious  economy  which 
seems  to  betray  want,  and  the  acrimonious  discussions 
which  arose  upon  the  inconsiderate  use  of  a  twenty- 
franc-piece.  He  saw  his  mother  realize  miracles  of  in- 
dustry to  conceal  the  shabbiness  of  her  toilets,  and  resort 
to  the  most  skilful  diplomacy  when  she  wished  to  pur- 
chase a  dress  for  Gilberte. 

And,  despite  all  this,  he  had  at  his  disposition  as  much 
money  as  those  of  his  comrades  whose  parents  had  the 
reputation  to  be  the  most  opulent  and  the  most  gen- 
erous. 

Anxious,  he  questioned  his  mother. 

"  Eh  what  does  it  matter  ?  "  she  answered,  blushing 
and  confused.  "  Is  that  any  thing  to  worry  you  ?  " 

And,  as  he  insisted, — 

"  Go  ahead,"  she  said :  "  we  are  rich  enough." 

But  he  could  hardly  believe  her,  accustomed  as  he 
was  to  hear  every  one  talk  of  poverty;  and,  as  he  fixed 
upon  her  his  great  astonished  eyes, — 

"  Yes,"  she  resumed,  with  an  imprudence  which 
fatally  was  to  bear  its  fruits,  "  we  are  rich ;  and,  if  we 
live  as  you  see,  it  is  because  it  suits  your  father,  who 
wishes  to  amass  a  still  greater  fortune." 

This  was  hardly  an  answer ;  and  yet  Maxence  asked 
no  further  question.  But  he  inquired  here  and  there, 
with  that  patient  shrewdness  of  young  people  possessed 
with  a  fixed  idea. 


58  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Already,  at  this  time,  M.  Favoral  had  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  even  among  his  friends,  the  reputation  to 
be  worth  at  least  a  million.  The  Mutual  Credit  Society 
had  considerably  developed  itself :  he  must,  they 
thought,  have  benefited  largely  by  the  circumstance; 
and  the  profits  must  have  swelled  rapidly  in  the  hands 
of  so  able  a  man,  and  one  so  noted  for  his  rigid  econ- 
omy. 

Such  is  the  substance  of  what  Maxence  heard;  and 
people  did  not  fail  to  add  ironically,  that  he  need  not 
rely  upon  the  paternal  fortune  to  amuse  himself. 

M.  Desormeaux  himself,  whom  he  had  "  pumped  '' 
rather  cleverly,  had  told  him,  whilst  patting  him  ami- 
cably on  the  shoulder, — 

"If  you  ever  need  money  for  your  frolics,  young 
man,  try  and  earn  it;  for  I'll  be  hanged  if  it's  the  old 
man  who'll  ever  supply  it." 

Such  answers  complicated,  instead  of  explaining,  the 
problem  which  occupied  Maxence. 

He  observed,  he  watched ;  and  at  last  he  acquired  the 
certainty  that  the  money  he  spent  was  the  fruit  of  the 
joint  labor  of  his  mother  and  sister. 

"  Ah !  why  not  have  told  me  so  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
throwing  his  arms  around  his  mother's  neck.  "  Why 
have  exposed  me  to  the  bitter  regrets  which  I  feel  at  this 
moment  ?  " 

By  this  sole  word  the  poor  woman  found  herself  am- 
ply repaid.  She  admired  the  noblesse  of  her  son's  feel- 
ings and  the  kindness  of  his  heart. 

"  Do  you  not  understand,"  she  told  him,  shedding 
tears  of  joy,  "  do  you  not  see,  that  the  labor  which  can 
promote  her  son's  pleasure  is  a  happiness  for  his 
mother?" 

But  he  was  dismayed  at  his  discovery. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  59 

"  No  matter ! "  he  said.  "  I  swear  that  I  shall  no 
longer  scatter  to  the  winds,  as  I  have  been  doing,  the 
money  that  you  give  me." 

For  a  few  weeks,  indeed,  he  was  faithful  to  his 
pledge.  But  at  fifteen  resolutions  are  not  very  stanch. 
The  impressions  he  had  felt  wore  off.  He  became  tired 
of  the  small  privations  which  he  had  to  impose  upon 
himself. 

He  soon  came  to  take  to  the  letter  what  his  mother 
had  told  him,  and  to  prove  to  his  own  satisfaction  that 
to  deprive  himself  of  a  pleasure  was  to  deprive  her.  He 
asked  for  ten  francs  one  day,  then  ten  francs  another, 
and  gradually  resumed  his  old  habits. 

He  was  at  this  time  about  leaving  school. 

"  The  moment  has  come,"  said  M.  Favoral,  "  for 
him  to  select  a  career,  and  support  himself." 


X. 

To  think  of  a  profession,  Maxence  Favoral  had  not 
waited  for  the  paternal  warnings. 

Modern  schoolboys  are  precocious:  they  know  the 
strong  and  the  weak  side  of  life;  and,  when  they  take 
their  degree,  they  already  have  but  few  illusions  left. 

And  how  could  it  be  otherwise?  In  the  interior  of 
the  colleges  is  fatally  found  the  echo  of  the  thoughts, 
and  the  reflex  of  the  manners,  of  the  time.  Neither 
walls  nor  keepers  can  avail.  At  the  same  time,  as  the 
city  mud  that  stains  their  boots,  the  scholars  bring  back 
on  their  return  from  holidays  their  stock  of  observations 
and  of  facts. 

And  what  have  they  seen  during  the  day  in  their 
families,  or  among  their  friends  ? 


60  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Ardent  cravings,  insatiable  appetites  for  luxuries, 
comforts,  enjoyments,  pleasures,  contempt  for  patient 
labor,  scorn  for  austere  convictions,  eager  longing  for 
money,  the  will  to  become  rich  at  any  cost,  and  the  firm 
resolution  to  ravish  fortune  on  the  first  favorable  occa- 
sion. 

To  be  sure,  they  have  dissembled  in  their  presence; 
but  their  perceptions  are  keen. 

True,  their  father  has  told  them  in  a  grave  tone,  that 
there  is  nothing  respectable  in  this  world  except  labor 
and  honesty;  but  they  have  caught  that  same  father 
scarcely  noticing  a  poor  devil  of  an  honest  man,  and 
bowing  to  the  earth  before  some  clever  rascal  bearing 
the  stigma  of  three  judgments,  but  worth  six  millions. 

Conclusion  ?  Oh !  they  know  very  well  how  to  con- 
clude; for  there  are  none  such  as  young  people  to  be 
logical,  and  to  deduce  the  utmost  consequences  of  a  fact. 

They  know,  the  most  of  them,  that  they  will  have  to 
do  something  or  other ;  but  what  ?  And  it  is  then,  that, 
during  the  recreations,  their  imagination  strives  to  find 
that  hitherto  unknown  profession  which  is  to  give  them 
fortune  without  work,  and  freedom  at  the  same  time  as 
a  brilliant  situation. 

They  discuss  and  criticise  freely  all  the  careers  which 
are  open  to  youthful  ambition.  And  how  they  laugh,  if 
some  simple  fellow  ventures  upon  suggesting  some  of 
those  modest  situations  where  they  earn  one  hundred 
and  fifty  francs  a  month  at  the  start!  One  hundred 
and  fifty  francs ! — why,  it's  hardly  as  much  as  many  a 
boy  spends  for  his  cigars,  and  his  cab-fares  when  he  is 
late. 

Maxence  was  neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  rest. 
Like  the  rest  he  strove  to  discover  the  ideal  profession 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  61 

which  makes  a  man  rich,  and  amuses  him  at  the  same 
time. 

Under  the  pretext  that  he  drew  nicely,  he  spoke  of 
becoming  a  painter,  calculating  coolly  what  painting 
may  yield,  and  reckoning,  according  to  some  news- 
paper, the  earnings  of  Corot  or  Gerome,  Ziem,  Bougue- 
reau,  and  some  others,  who  are  reaping  at  last  the 
fruits  of  unceasing  efforts  and  crushing  labors. 

But,  in  the  way  of  pictures,  M.  Vincent  Favoral  ap- 
preciated only  the  blue  vignettes  of  the  Bank  of  France, 

"  I  wish  no  artists  in  my  family,"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
that  admitted  of  no  reply. 

Maxence  would  willingly  have  become  an  engineer, 
for  it's  rather  the  style  to  be  an  engineer  now-a-days; 
but  the  examinations  for  the  Polytechnic  School  are 
rather  steep.  Or  else  a  cavalry  officer;  but  the  two 
years  at  Saint  Cyr  are  not  very  gay.  Or  chief  clerk, 
like  M.  Desormeaux;  but  he  would  have  to  begin  by 
being  supernumerary. 

Finally  after  hesitating  for  a  long  time  between  law 
and  medicine,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  become  a  lawyer, 
influenced  above  all,  by  the  joyous  legends  of  the 
Latin  quarter. 

That  was  not  exactly  M.  Vincent  Favoral's  dream. 

"  That's  going  to  cost  money  again,"  he  growled. 

The  fact  is,  he  had  indulged  in  the  fallacious  hope  that 
his  son,  as  soon  as  he  left  college,  would  enter  at  once 
some  business-house,  where  he  would  earn  enough  to 
take  care  of  himself. 

He  yielded  at  last,  however,  to  the  persistent  en- 
treaties of  his  wife,  and  the  solicitations  of  his  friends. 

"  Be  it  so,"  he  said  to  Maxence :  "  you  will  study  law. 
Only,  as  it  cannot  suit  me  that  you  should  waste  your 


62  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

days  lounging  in  the  billiard-rooms  of  the  left  bank, 
you  shall  at  the  same  time  work  in  an  attorney's  office. 
Next  Saturday  I  shall  arrange  with  my  friend  Chape- 
lain." 

Maxence  had  not  bargained  for  such  an  arrangement ; 
and  he  came  near  backing  out  at  the  prospect  of  a  dis- 
cipline which  he  foresaw  must  be  as  exacting  as  that 
of  the  college. 

Still,  as  he  could  think  of  nothing  better,  he  perse- 
vered. And,  vacations  over,  he  was  duly  entered  at  the 
law-school,  and  settled  at  a  desk  in  M.  Chapelain's  office, 
which  was  then  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine. 

The  first  year  every  thing  went  on  tolerably.  He  en- 
joyed as  much  freedom  as  he  cared  to.  His  father  did 
not  allow  him  one  centime  for  his  pocket-money ;  but  the 
attorney,  in  his  capacity  of  an  old  friend  of  the  family, 
did  for  him  what  he  had  never  done  before  for  an  am- 
ateur clerk,  and  allowed  him  twenty  francs  a  month. 
Mme.  Favoral  adding  to  this  a  few  five-franc  pieces, 
Maxence  declared  himself  entirely  satisfied. 

Unfortunately,  with  his  lively  imagination  and  his 
impetuous  temper,  no  one  was  less  fit  than  himself  for 
that  peaceful  existence,  that  steady  toil,  the  same  each 
day,  without  the  stimulus  of  difficulties  to  overcome,  or 
the  satisfaction  of  results  obtained. 

Before  long  he  became  tired  of  it. 

He  had  found  at  the  law-school  a  number  of  his  old 
schoolmates  whose  parents  resided  in  the  provinces, 
and  who,  consequently,  lived  as  they  pleased  in  the 
Latin  quarter,  less  assiduous  to  the  lectures  than  to  the 
Spring  Brewery  and  the  Closerie  des  Lilas.* 

He  envied  them  their  joyous  life,  their  freedom  with- 
out control,  their  facile  pleasures,  their  furnished  rooms, 
*  A  noted  dancing-garden. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  63 

and  even  the  low  eating-house  where  they  took  their 
meals.  And,  as  much  as  possible,  he  lived  with  them 
and  like  them. 

But  it  is  not  with  M.  Chapelain's  twenty  francs  that  it 
would  have  been  possible  for  him  to  keep  up  with  fel- 
lows, who,  with  superb  recklessness,  took  on  credit  every 
thing  they  could  get,  reserving  the  amount  of  their  al- 
lowance for  those  amusements  which  had  to  be  paid  for 
in  cash. 

But  was  not  Mme.  Favoral  here? 

She  had  worked  so  much,  the  poor  woman,  especially 
since  Mile.  Gilberte  had  become  almost  a  young  lady; 
she  had  so  much  saved,  so  much  stinted,  that  her  re- 
serve, notwithstanding  repeated  drafts,  amounted  to  a 
good  round  sum. 

When  Maxence  wanted  two  or  three  napoleons,  he 
had  but  a  word  to  say ;  and  he  said  it  often.  Thus,  after 
a  while,  he  became  an  excellent  billiard-player ;  he  kept 
his  colored  meerschaum  in  the  rack  of  a  popular  brew- 
ery ;  he  took  absinthe  before  dinner,  and  spent  his  even- 
ings in  the  laudable  effort  to  ascertain  how  many  mugs 
of  beer  he  could  "  put  away."  Gaining  in  audacity, 
he  danced  at  Bullier's,  dined  at  Foyd's,  and  at  last  had 
a  mistress. 

So  much  so,  that  one  afternoon,  M.  Favoral  having  to 
visit  on  business  the  other  side  of  the  water,  found  him- 
self face  to  face  with  his  son,  who  was  coming  along,  a 
cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  having  on  his  arm  a  young 
lady,  painted  in  superior  style,  and  harnessed  with  a 
toilet  calculated  to  make  the  cab-horses  rear. 

He  returned  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  in  a  state  of  inde- 
scribable rage. 

"  A  woman !  "  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  offended 
modesty.  "  A  woman ! — he,  my  son  1 " 


64  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  when  that  son  made  his  appearance,  looking 
quite  sheepish,  his  first  impulse  was  to  resort  to  his  for- 
mer mode  of  correction. 

But  Maxence  was  now  over  nineteen  years  of  age. 

At  the  sight  of  the  uplifted  cane,  he  became  whiter 
than  his  shirt;  and,  wrenching  it  from  his  father's 
hands,  he  broke  it  across  his  knees,  threw  the  pieces  vio- 
lently upon  the  floor,  and  sprang  out  of  the  house. 

"  He  shall  never  again  set  his  foot  here !  "  screamed 
the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit,  thrown  beside  himself 
by  an  act  of  resistance  which  seemed  to  him  unheard  of. 
"  I  banish  him.  Let  his  clothes  be  packed  up,  and  taken 
to  some  hotel:  I  never  want  to  see  him  again." 

For  a  long  time  Mme.  Favoral  and  Gilberte  fairly 
dragged  themselves  at  his  feet,  before  he  consented  to 
recall  his  determination. 

"  He  will  disgrace  us  all !  "  he  kept  repeating,  seeming 
unable  to  understand  that  it  was  himself  who  had,  as 
it  were,  driven  Maxence  on  to  the  fatal  road  which  he 
was  pursuing,  forgetting  that  the  absurd  severities  of 
the  father  prepared  the  way  for  the  perilous  indulgence 
of  the  mother,  unwilling  to  own  that  the  head  of  a  fam- 
ily has  other  duties  besides  providing  food  and  shelter 
for  his  wife  and  children,  and  that  a  father  has  but  little 
right  to  complain  who  has  not  known  how  to  make  him- 
self the  friend  and  the  adviser  of  his  son. 

At  last,  after  the  most  violent  recriminations,  he  for- 
gave, in  appearance  at  least. 

But  the  scales  had  dropped  from  his  eyes.  He  started 
in  quest  of  information,  and  discovered  startling  enor- 
mities. 

He  heard  from  M.  Chapelain  that  Maxence  remained 
whole  weeks  at  a  time  without  appearing  at  the  office. 
If  he  had  not  complained  before,  it  was  because  he  had 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  65 

yielded  to  the  urgent  entreaties  of  Mme.  Favoral;  and 
he  was  now  glad,  he  added,  of  an  opportunity  to  relieve 
his  conscience  by  a  full  confession. 

Thus  the  cashier  discovered,  one  by  one,  all  his  son's 
tricks.  He  heard  that  he  was  almost  unknown  at  the 
law-school,  that  he  spent  his  days  in  the  cafes,  and  that, 
in  the  evening,  when  he  believed  him  in  bed  and  asleep, 
he  was  in  fact  running  out  to  theatres  and  to  balls. 

"Ah!  that's  the  way,  is  it?"  he  thought.  "Ah,  my 
wife  and  children  are  in  league  against  me, — me,  the 
master.  Very  well,  we'll  see." 


XI. 

FROM  that  morning  war  was  declared. 

From  that  day  commenced  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  one 
of  those  domestic  dramas  which  are  still  awaiting  their 
Moliere, — a  drama  of  distressing  vulgarity  and  sicken- 
ing realism,  but  poignant,  nevertheless;  for  it  brought 
into  action  tears,  blood,  and  a  savage  energy. 

M.  Favoral  thought  himself  sure  to  win;  for  did  he 
not  have  the  key  of  the  cash,  and  is  not  the  key  of  the 
cash  the  most  formidable  weapon  in  an  age  where  every 
thing  begins  and  ends  with  money? 

Nevertheless,  he  was  filled  with  irritating  anxieties. 

He  who  had  just  discovered  so  many  things  which  he 
did  not  even  suspect  a  few  days  before,  he  could  not 
discover  the  source  whence  his  son  drew  the  money 
which  flowed  like  water  from  his  prodigal  hands.. 

He  had  made  sure  that  Maxence  had  no  debts;  and 
yet  it  could  not  be  with  M.  Chapelain's  monthly  twenty 
francs  that  he  fed  his  frolics. 

Mme.  Favoral  and  Gilberte,  subjected  separately  to 


66  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

a  skilful  interrogatory,  had  managed  to  keep  inviolate 
the  secret  of  their  mercenary  labor.  The  servant, 
shrewdly  questioned,  had  said  nothing  that  could  in 
any  way  cause  the  truth  to  be  suspected. 

Here  was,  then,  a  mystery ;  and  M.  Favoral's  constant 
anxiety  could  be  read  upon  his  knitted  brows  during 
his  brief  visits  to  the  house ;  that  is,  during  dinner. 

From  the  manner  in  which  he  tasted  his  soup,  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  he  was  asking  himself  whether  that  was 
real  soup,  and  whether  he  was  not  being  imposed  upon. 
From  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  it  was  easy  to  guess 
this  question  constantly  present  to  his  mind : — 

"  They  are  robbing  me  evidently ;  but  how  do  they 
doit?" 

And  he  became  distrustful,  fussy,  and  suspicious,  to 
an  extent  that  he  had  never  been  before.  It  was  with 
the  most  insulting  precautions  that  he  examined  every 
Sunday  his  wife's  accounts.  He  took  a  book  at  the  gro- 
cer's, and  settled  it  himself  every  month:  he  had  the 
butcher's  bills  sent  to  him  in  duplicate.  He  would  in- 
quire the  price  of  an  apple  as  he  peeled  it  over  his  plate, 
and  never  failed  to  stop  at  the  fruiterer's  and  ascertain 
that  he  had  not  been  deceived. 

But  it  was  all  in  vain. 

And  yet  he  knew  that  Maxence  always  had  in  his 
pocket  two  or  three  five-franc  pieces. 

"  Where  do  you  steal  them  ?  "  he  asked  him  one  day. 

"  I  save  them  out  of  my  salary,"  boldly  answered  the 
young  man. 

Exasperated,  M.  Favoral  wished  to  make  the  whole 
world  take  an  interest  in  his  investigations.  And  one 
Saturday  evening,  as  he  was  talking  with  his  friends, 
M.  Chapelain,  the  worthy  Desclavettes,  and  old  man 
Desormeaux,  pointing  to  his  wife  and  daughter, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  67 

"  Those  d — d  women  rob  me,"  he  said,  "  for  the  bene- 
fit of  my  son ;  and  they  do  it  so  cleverly  that  I  can't  find 
out  how.  They  have  an  understanding  with  the  shop- 
keepers, who  are  but  licensed  thieves;  and  nothing  is 
eaten  here  that  they  don't  make  me  pay  double  its 
value." 

M.  Chapelain  made  an  ill-concealed  grimace;  whilst 
M.  Desclavettes  sincerely  admired  a  man  who  had  cour- 
age enough  to  confess  his  meanness. 

But  M.  Desormeaux  never  minced  things. 

"  Do  you  know,  friend  Vincent,"  he  said,  "  that  it 
requires  a  strong  stomach  to  take  dinner  with  a  man 
who  spends  his  time  calculating  the  cost  of  every  mouth- 
ful that  his  guests  swallow  ?  " 

M.  Favoral  turned  red  in  the  face. 

"  It  is  not  the  expense  that  I  deplore,"  he  replied, 
"  but  the  duplicity.  I  am  rich  enough,  thank  Heaven ! 
not  to  begrudge  a  few  francs ;  and  I  would  gladly  give 
to  my  wife  twice  as  much  as  she  takes,  if  she  would  only 
ask  it  frankly." 

But  that  was  a  lesson. 

Hereafter  he  was  careful  to  dissimulate,  and  seemed 
exclusively  occupied  in  subjecting  his  son  to  a  system  of 
his  invention,  the  excessive  rigor  of  which  would  have 
upset  a  steadier  one  than  he. 

He  demanded  of  him  daily  written  attestations  of  his 
attendance  both  at  the  law-school  and  at  the  lawyer's 
office.  He  marked  out  the  itinerary  of  his  walks  for  him, 
and  measured  the  time  they  required,  within  a  few  min- 
utes. Immediately  after  dinner  he  shut  him  up  in  his 
room,  under  lock  and  key,  and  never  failed,  when  he 
came  home  at  ten  o'clock  to  make  sure  of  his  presence. 

He  could  not  have  taken  steps  better  calculated  to  ex- 
alt still  more  Mme.  Favoral's  blind  tenderness. 


68  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

When  she  heard  that  Maxence  had  a  mistress,  she 
had  been  rudely  shocked  in  her  most  cherished  feelings. 
It  is  never  without  a  secret  jealousy  that  a  mother  dis- 
covers that  a  woman  has  robbed  her  of  her  son's  heart. 
She  had  retained  a  certain  amount  of  spite  against  him 
on  account  of  disorders,  which,  in  her  candor,  she  had 
never  suspected.  She  forgave  him  every  thing  when 
she  saw  of  what  treatment  he  was  the  object. 

She  took  sides  with  him,  believing  him  to  be  the  vic- 
tim of  a  most  unjust  persecution.  In  the  evening,  after 
her  husband  had  gone  out,  Gilberte  and  herself  would 
take  their  sewing,  sit  in  the  hall  outside  his  room,  and 
converse  with  him  through  the  door.  Never  had  they 
worked  so  hard  for  the  shop-keeper  in  the  Rue  St. 
Denis.  Some  weeks  they  earned  as  much  as  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  francs. 

But  Maxence's  patience  was  exhausted;  and  one 
morning  he  declared  resolutely  that  he  would  no  longer 
attend  the  law-school,  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  his 
vocation,  and  that  there  was  no  human  power  capable 
to  make  him  return  to  M.  Chapelain's. 

"  And  where  will  you  go  ?  "  exclaimed  his  father. 
"  Do  you  expect  me  eternally  to  supply  your  wants  ?  " 

He  answered  that  it  was  precisely  in  order  to  support 
himself,  and  conquer  his  independence,  that  he  had  re- 
solved to  abandon  a  profession,  which,  after  two  years, 
yielded  him  twenty  francs  a  month. 

"  I  want  some  business  where  I  have  a  chance  to  get 
rich,"  he  replied.  "  I  would  like  to  enter  a  banking- 
house,  or  some  great  financial  establishment." 

Mme.  Favoral  jumped  at  the  idea. 

"That's  a  fact,"  she  said  to  her  husband.  "Why 
couldn't  you  find  a  place  for  our  son  at  the  Mutual 
Credit?  There  he  would  be  under  your  own  eyes.  In- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  69 

telligent  as  he  is,  backed  by  M.  de  Thaller  and  yourself, 
he  would  soon  earn  a  good  salary." 

M.  Favoral  knit  his  brows. 

"  That  I  shall  never  do,"  he  uttered.  "  I  have  not 
sufficient  confidence  in  my  son.  I  cannot  expose  my- 
self to  have  him  compromise  the  consideration  which 
I  have  acquired  for  myself." 

And,  revealing  to  a  certain  extent  the  secret  of  his 
conduct, — 

"  A  cashier,"  he  added,  "  who  like  me  handles  im- 
mense sums  cannot  be  too  careful  of  his  reputation. 
Confidence  is  a  delicate  thing  in  these  times,  when  there 
are  so  many  cashiers  constantly  on  the  road  to  Belgium. 
Who  knows  what  would  be  thought  of  me,  if  I  was 
known  to  have  such  a  son  as  mine  ?  " 

Mme.  Favoral  was  insisting,  nevertheless,  when  he 
seemed  to  make  up  his  mind  suddenly. 

"  Enough,"  he  said.  "  Maxence  is  free.  I  allow  him 
two  years  to  establish  himself  in  some  position.  That 
delay  over,  good-by:  he  can  find  board  and  lodging 
where  he  please.  That's  all.  I  don't  want  to  hear  any 
thing  more  about  it." 

It  was  with  a  sort  of  frenzy  that  Maxence  abused  that 
freedom;  and  in  less  than  two  weeks  he  had  dissipated 
three  months'  earnings  of  his  mother  and  sister. 

That  time  over,  he  succeeded,  thanks  to  M.  Chapelain, 
in  finding  a  place  with  an  architect. 

This  was  not  a  very  brilliant  opening;  and  the 
chances  were,  that  he  might  remain  a  clerk  all  his  life. 
But  the  future  did  not  trouble  him  much.  For  the  pres- 
ent, he  was  delighted  with  this  inferior  position,  which 
assured  him  each  month  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
francs. 

One  hundred  and  seventy-five  francs!     A  fortune. 


70  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  so  he  rushed  into  that  life  of  questionable  pleas- 
ures, where  so  many  wretches  have  left  not  only  the 
money  which  they  had,  which  is  nothing,  but  the  money 
which  they  had  not,  which  leads  straight  to  the  police- 
court. 

He  made  friends  with  those  shabby  fellows  who  walk 
up  and  down  in  front  of  the  Cafe  Riche,  with  an  empty 
stomach,  and  a  tooth-pick  between  their  teeth.  He  be- 
came a  regular  customer  at  those  low  cafes  of  the  Bou- 
levards, where  plastered  girls  smile  to  the  men.  He 
frequented  those  suspicious  table  d'hotes  where  they 
play  baccarat  after  dinner  on  a  wine-stained  table-cloth, 
and  where  the  police  make  periodical  raids.  He  ate 
suppers  in  those  night  restaurants  where  people  throw 
•  the  bottles  at  each  other's  heads  after  drinking  their 
I  contents. 

Often  he  remained  twenty-four  hours  without  coming 
to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles ;  and  then  Mme.  Favoral  spent  the 
night  in  the  most  fearful  anxiety.  Then,  suddenly,  at 
some  hour  when  he  knew  his  father  to  be  absent,  he 
would  appear,  and,  taking  his  mother  to  one  side, — 

"  I  very  much  want  a  few  louis,"  he  would  say  in  a 
'  sheepish  tone. 

She  gave  them  to  him;  and  she  kept  giving  them  so 
long  as  she  had  any,  not,  however,  without  observing 
timidly  to  him  that  Gilberte  and  herself  could  not  earn 
very  much. 

Until  finally  one  evening,  and  to  a  last  demand, — 

"  Alas !  "  she  answered  sorrowfully,  "  I  have  nothing 
left,  and  it  is  only  on  Monday  that  we  are  to  take  our 
work  back.  Couldn't  you  wait  until  then  ?  " 

He  could  not  wait :  he  was  expected  for  a  game.  Blind 
devotion  begets  ferocious  egotism.  He  wanted  his 
mother  to  go  out  and  borrow  the  money  from  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  71 

grocer  or  the  butcher.  She  was  hesitating.  He  spoke 
louder. 

Then  Mile.  Gilberte  appeared. 

"Have  you,  then,  really  no  heart?"  she  said.  "It 
seems  to  me,  that,  if  I  were  a  man,  I  would  not  ask  my 
mother  and  sister  to  work  for  me." 


XII. 

GILBERTE  FAVORAL  had  just  completed  her  eighteenth 
year.  Rather  tall,  slender,  her  every  motion  betrayed 
the  admirable  proportions  of  her  figure,  and  had  that 
grace  which  results  from  the  harmonious  blending  of 
litheness  and  strength.  She  did  not  strike  at  first  sight ; 
but  soon  a  penetrating  and  indefinable  charm  arose  from 
her  whole  person;  and  one  knew  not  which  to  admire 
most, — the  exquisite  perfections  of  her  figure,  the  di- 
vine roundness  of  her  neck,  her  aerial  carriage,  or  the 
placid  ingenuousness  of  her  attitudes.  She  could  not 
be  called  beautiful,  inasmuch  as  her  features  lacked 
regularity;  but  the  extreme  mobility  of  her  counte- 
nance, upon  which  could  be  read  all  the  emotions  of  her 
soul,  had  an  irresistible  seduction.  Her  large  eyes,  of 
velvety  blue,  had  untold  depths  and  an  incredible  in- 
tensity of  expression ;  the  imperceptible  quiver  of  her 
rosy  nostrils  revealed  an  untamable  pride ;  and  the  smile 
that  played  upon  her  lips  told  her  immense  contempt  for 
every  thing  mean  and  small.  But  her  real  beauty  was 
her  hair, — of  a  blonde  so  luminous  that  it  seemed  pow- 
dered with  diamond-dust ;  so  thick  and  so  long,  that  to 
be  able  to  twist  and  confine  it,  she  had  to  cut  off  heavy 
locks  of  it  to  the  very  root. 

Alone,  in  the  house,  she  did  not  tremble  at  her  father's 
voice.  The  studied  despotism  which  had  subdued  Mme. 


72  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Favoral  had  revolted  her,  and  her  energy  had  become 
tempered  under  the  same  system  of  oppression  which 
had  unnerved  Maxence. 

Whilst  her  mother  and  her  brother  lied  with  that  quiet 
impudence  of  the  slave,  whose  sole  weapon  is  duplicity, 
Gilberte  preserved  a  sullen  silence.  And  if  complicity 
was  imposed  upon  her  by  circumstances,  if  she  had  to 
maintain  a  falsehood,  each  word  cost  her  such  a  painful 
effort,  that  her  features  became  visibly  altered. 

Never,  when  her  own  interests  were  alone  at  stake, 
had  she  stooped  to  an  untruth.  Fearlessly,  and  what- 
ever might  be  the  result, — 

"  That  is  the  fact,"  she  would  say. 

Accordingly,  M.  Favoral  could  not  help  respecting 
her  to  a  degree;  and,  when  he  was  in  fine  humor,  he 
called  her  the  Empress  Gilberte.  For  her  alone  he  had 
some  deference  and  some  attentions.  He  moderated, 
when  she  looked  at  him,  the  brutality  of  his  language. 
He  brought  her  a  few  flowers  every  Saturday. 

He  had  even  allowed  her  a  professor  of  music ;  though 
he  was  wont  to  declare  that  a  woman  needs  but  two  ac- 
complishments,— to  cook  and  to  sew.  But  she  had  in- 
sisted so  much,  that  he  had  at  last  discovered  for  her,  in 
an  attic  of  the  Rue  du  Pas-de-la-Mule,  an  old  Italian 
master,  the  Signor  Gismondo  Pulei,  a  sort  of  unknown 
genius,  for  whom  thirty  francs  a  month  were  a  fortune, 
and  who  conceived  a  sort  of  religious  fanaticism  for  his 
pupil. 

Though  he  had  always  refused  to  write  a  note,  he  con- 
sented, for  her  sake,  to  fix  the  melodies  that  buzzed  in 
his  cracked  brain;  and  some  of  them  proved  to  be  ad- 
mirable. He  dreamed  to  compose  for  her  an  opera  that 
would  transmit  to  the  most  remote  generations  the  name 
of  Gismondo  Pulei. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  73 

"  The  Signora  Gilberte  is  the  very  goddess  of  music," 
he  said  to  M.  Favoral,  with  transports  of  enthusiasm, 
which  intensified  still  his  frightful  accent. 

The  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  answering  that  there  is  no  harmony  for  a 
man  who  spends  his  days  listening  to  the  exciting  music 
of  golden  coins.  In  spite  of  which  his  vanity  seemed 
highly  gratified,  when  on  Saturday  evenings,  after  din- 
ner, Mile.  Gilberte  sat  at  the  piano,  and  Mme.  Des- 
clavettes,  suppressing  a  yawn,  would  exclaim, — 

"  What  remarkable  talent  the  dear  child  has !  " 

The  young  girl  had,  then,  a  positive  influence ;  and  it 
was  to  her  entreaties  alone,  and  not  to  those  of  his  wife, 
that  he  had  several  times  forgiven  Maxence.  He  would 
have  done  much  more  for  her,  had  she  wished  it;  but 
she  would  have  been  compelled  to  ask,  to  insist,  to  beg. 

"  And  it's  humiliating,"  she  used  to  say. 

Sometimes  Mme.  Favoral  scolded  her  gently,  saying 
that  her  father  would  certainly  not  refuse  her  one  of 
those  pretty  toilets  which  are  the  ambition  and  the  joy 
of  young  girls. 

But  she, — 

"  It  is  much  less  mortification  to  me  to  wear  these 
rags  than  to  meet  with  a  refusal,"  she  replied.  "  I  am 
satisfied  with  my  dresses." 

With  such  a  character,  surrounded,  however,  by  a 
meek  resignation,  and  an  unalterable  sang-froid,  she 
inspired  a  certain  respect  to  both  her  mother  and  her 
brother,  who  admired  in  her  an  energy  of  which  they 
felt  themselves  incapable. 

And  when  she  appeared,  and  commenced  reproaching 
him  in  an  indignant  tone  of  voice,  with  the  baseness 
of  his  conduct,  and  his  insatiate  demands,  Maxence  was 
almost  stunned. 


74  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  I  did  not  know,"  he  commenced,  turning  as  red  as 
fire. 

She  crushed  him  with  a  look  of  mingled  contempt  and 
pity ;  and,  in  an  accent  of  haughty  irony, — 

"  Indeed,"  she  said,  "  you  do  not  know  whence  the 
money  comes  that  you  extort  from  our  mother !  " 

And  holding  up  her  hand,  still  remarkably  handsome, 
though  slightly  deformed  by  the  constant  handling  of 
the  needle ;  the  fourth  finger  of  the  right  hand  bent  by 
the  thread,  and  the  fore-finger  of  the  left  tattooed  and 
lacerated  by  the  needle, — 

"  Indeed,"  she  repeated,  "  you  do  not  know  that  my 
mother  and  myself,  we  spend  all  our  days,  and  the 
greater  part  of  our  nights,  working  ?  " 

Hanging  his  head,  he  said  nothing. 

"  If  it  were  for  myself  alone,"  she  continued,  "  I 
would  not  speak  to  you  thus.  But  look  at  our  mother ! 
See  her  poor  eyes,  red  and  weak  from  her  ceaseless 
labor!  If  I  have  said  nothing  until  now,  it  is  be- 
cause I  did  not  as  yet  despair  of  your  heart;  be- 
cause I  hoped  that  you  would  recover  some  feeling  of 
decency.  But  no,  nothing.  With  time,  your  last  scruples 
seem  to  have  vanished.  Once  you  begged  humbly ;  now 
you  demand  rudely.  How  soon  will  you  resort  to 
blows?" 

"  Gilberte !  "  stammered  the  poor  fellow,  "  Gilberte !  " 

She  interrupted  him, — 

"  Money !  "  she  went  on,  "  always,  and  without  time, 
you  must  have  money ;  no  matter  whence  it  comes,  nor 
what  it  costs.  If,  at  least,  you  had,  to  justify  your  ex- 
penses, the  excuse  of  some  great  passion,  or  of  some 
object,  were  it  absurd,  ardently  pursued!  But  I  defy 
you  to  confess  upon  what  degrading  pleasures  you  lav- 
ish our  humble  economies.  I  defy  you  to  tell  us  what 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  75 

you  mean  to  do  with  the  sum  that  you  demand  to-night, 
— that  sum  for  which  you  would  have  our  mother  stoop 
to  beg  the  assistance  of  a  shop-keeper,  to  whom  we 
would  be  compelled  to  reveal  the  secret  of  our  shame." 

Touched  by  the  frightful  humiliation  of  her  son, — 

"  He  is  so  unhappy !  "  stammered  Mme.  Favoral. 

"  He  unhappy !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  What,  then,  shall 
we  say  of  us  ?  and,  above  all,  what  shall  you  say  of  your- 
self, mother?  Unhappy! — he,  a  man,  who  has  liberty 
and  strength,  who  may  undertake  every  thing,  attempt 
any  thing,  dare  any  thing.  Ah,  I  wish  I  were  a  man ! 
I !  I  would  be  a  man  as  there  are  some,  as  I  know  some ; 
and  I  would  have  avenged  you,  O  beloved  mother !  long, 
long  ago,  from  father ;  and  I  would  have  begun  to  repay 
you  all  the  good  you  have  done  me." 

Mme.  Favoral  was  sobbing. 

"  I  beg  of  you,"  she  murmured,  "  spare  him." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  young  girl.  "  But  you  must  al- 
low me  to  tell  him  that  it  is  not  for  his  sake  that  I  devote 
my  youth  to  a  mercenary  labor.  It  is  for  you,  adored 
mother,  that  you  may  have  the  joy  to  give  him  what 
he  asks,  since  it  is  your  only  joy." 

Maxence  shuddered  under  the  breath  of  that  superb 
indignation.  That  frightful  humiliation,  he  felt  that  he 
deserved  it  only  too  much.  He  understood  the  justice  of 
these  cruel  reproaches.  And,  as  his  heart  had  not  yet 
spoiled  with  the  contact  of  his  boon  companions,  as  he 
was  weak,  rather  than  wicked,  as  the  sentiments  which 
are  the  honor  and  pride  of  a  man  were  not  dead  within 
him, — 

"  Ah !  you  are  a  brave  sister,  Gilberte,"  he  exclaimed ; 
"  and  what  you  have  just  done  is  well.  You  have  been 
harsh,  but  not  as  much  as  I  deserve.  Thanks  for  your 
courage,  which  will  give  me  back  mine.  Yes,  it  is  a 


76  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

shame  for  me  to  have  thus  cowardly  abused  you 
both." 

And,  raising  his  mother's  hand  to  his  lips, — 

"  Forgive,  mother,"  he  continued,  his  eyes  overflow- 
ing with  tears,  "  forgive  him  who  swears  to  you  to  re- 
deem his  past,  and  to  become  your  support,  instead  of 
being  a  crushing  burden  " — 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  steps  on  the  stairs, 
and  the  shrill  sound  of  a  whistle. 

"  My  husband !  "  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral, — "  your 
father,  my  children !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte  coldly. 

"  Don't  you  hear  that  he  is  whistling?  and  do  you  for- 
get that  it  is  a  proof  that  he  is  furious?  What  new 
trial  threatens  us  again  ?  " 


XIII. 

MME.  FAVORAL  spoke  from  experience.  She  had 
learned,  to  her  cost,  that  the  whistle  of  her  husband, 
more  surely  than  the  shriek  of  the  stormy  petrel,  an- 
nounces the  storm.  And  she  had  that  evening  more 
reasons  than  usual  to  fear.  Breaking  from  all  his  hab- 
its, M.  Favoral  had  not  come  home  to  dinner,  and  had 
sent  one  of  the  clerks  of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society  to  say 
that  they  should  not  wait  for  him. 

Soon  his  latch-key  grated  in  the  lock ;  the  door  swung 
open ;  he  came  in ;  and,  seeing  his  son, — 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  find  you  here,"  he  exclaimed  with 
a  giggle,  which  with  him  was  the  utmost  expression 
of  anger. 

Mme.  Favoral  shuddered.  Still  under  the  impression 
of  the  scene  which  had  just  taken  place,  his  heart  heavy, 
and  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  Maxence  did  not  answer. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  77 

"  It  is  doubtless  a  wager,"  resumed  the  father,  "  and 
you  wish  to  know  how  far  my  patience  may  go." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  stammered  the  young 
man. 

"  The  money  that  you  used  to  get,  I  know  not  where, 
doubtless  fails  you  now,  or  at  least  is  no  longer  suffi- 
cient, and  you  go  on  making  debts  right  and  left, — at 
the  tailor's,  the  shirt  maker's,  the  jeweller's.  Of  course, 
it's  simple  enough.  We  earn  nothing;  but  we  wish  to 
dress  in  the  latest  style,  to  wear  a  gold  chain  across  our 
vest,  and  then  we  make  dupes." 

"  I  have  never  made  any  dupes,  father." 

"  Bah !  And  what,  then,  do  you  call  all  these  people 
who  came  this  very  day  to  present  me  their  bills?  For 
they  did  dare  to  come  to  my  office !  They  had  agreed  to 
come  together,  expecting  thus  to  intimidate  me  more 
easily.  I  told  them  that  you  were  of  age,  and  that  your 
business  was  none  of  mine.  Hearing  this,  they  became 
insolent,  and  commenced  speaking  so  loud,  that  their 
voices  could  be  heard  in  the  adjoining  rooms.  At  that 
very  moment,  the  manager,  M.  de  Thaller,  happened  to 
be  passing  through  the  hall.  Hearing  the  noise  of  a 
discussion,  he  thought  that  I  was  having  some  difficulty 
with  some  of  our  stockholders,  and  he  came  in,  as  he 
had  a  right  to.  Then  I  was  compelled  to  confess  every 
thing." 

He  became  excited  at  the  sound  of  his  words,  like  a 
horse  at  the  jingle  of  his  bells.  And,  more  and  more 
beside  himself, — 

"  That  is  just  what  your  creditors  wished,"  he  pur- 
sued. "  They  thought  I  would  be  afraid  of  a  row,  and 
that  I  would  '  come  down.'  It  is  a  system  of  blackmail- 
ing, like  any  other.  An  account  is  opened  to  some  young 
rascal;  and,  when  the  amount  is  reasonably  large,  the}' 


78  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

take  it  to  the  family,  saying,  '  Money,  or  I  make  row.' 
Do  you  think  it  is  to  you,  who  are  penniless,  that  they 
give  credit  ?  It's  on  my  pocket  that  they  were  drawing, 
— on  my  pocket,  because  they  believed  me  rich.  They 
sold  you  at  exorbitant  prices  every  thing  they  wished ; 
and  they  relied  on  me  to  pay  for  trousers  at  ninety 
francs,  shirts  at  forty  francs,  and  watches  at  six  hundred 
francs." 

Contrary  to  his  habit,  Maxence  did  not  offer  any  de- 
nial. 

"  I  expect  to  pay  all  I  owe,"  he  said. 

"You!" 

"  I  give  my  word  I  will !  " 

"  And  with  what,  pray  ?  " 

"  With  my  salary." 

"  You  have  a  salary,  then  ?  " 

Maxence  blushed. 

"  I  have  what  I  earn  at  my  employer's." 
,  "  What  employer  ?  " 

""  The  architect  in  whose  office  M.  Chapelain  helped 
me  to  find  a  place." 

With  a  threatening  gesture,  M.  Favoral  interrupted 
him. 

"  Spare  me  your  lies,"  he  uttered.  "  I  am  better 
posted  than  you  suppose.  I  know,  that,  over  a  month 
ago,  your  employer,  tired  of  your  idleness,  dismissed 
you  in  disgrace." 

Disgrace  was  superfluous.  The  fact  was,  that  Max- 
ence, returning  to  work  after  an  absence  of  five  days, 
had  found  another  in  his  place. 

"  I  shall  find  another  place,"  he  said. 

M.  Favoral  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  movement 
of  rage. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  79 

"  And  in  the  mean  time,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  have  to 
pay.  Do  you  know  what  your  creditors  threaten  to  do  ? 
— to  commence  a  suit  against  me.  They  would  lose  it,  of 
course,  they  know  it;  but  they  hope  that  I  would  yield 
before  a  scandal.  And  this  is  not  all :  they  talk  of  en- 
tering a  criminal  complaint.  They  pretend  that  you 
have  audaciously  swindled  them;  that  the  articles  you 
purchased  of  them  were  not  at  all  for  your  own  use,  but 
that  you  sold  them  as  fast  as  you  got  them,  at  any  price 
you  could  obtain,  to  raise  ready  money.  The  jeweller  has 
proofs,  he  says,  that  you  went  straight  from  his  shop 
to  the  pawnbroker's,  and  pledged  a  watch  and  chain 
which  he  had  just  sold  you.  It  is  a  police  matter.  They 
said  all  that  in  presence  of  my  superior  officer, — in  pres- 
ence of  M.  de  Thaller.  I  had  to  get  the  janitor  to  put 
them  out.  But,  after  they  had  left,  M.  de  Thaller  gave 
me  to  understand  that  he  wished  me  very  much  to  settle 
every  thing.  And  he  is  right.  My  consideration  could 
not  resist  another  such  scene.  What  confidence  can  be 
placed  in  a  cashier  whose  son  behaves  in  this  manner? 
How  can  a  key  of  a  safe  containing  millions  be  left 
with  a  man  whose  son  would  have  been  dragged 
into  the  police-courts  ?  In  a  word,  I  am  at  your  mercy. 
In  a  word,  my  honor,  my  position,  my  fortune,  rest  upon 
you.  As  often  as  it  may  please  you  to  make 
debts,  you  can  make  them,  and  I  shall  be  compelled 
to  pay." 

Gathering  all  his  courage, — 

"  You  have  been  sometimes  very  harsh  with  me, 
father,"  commenced  Maxence ;  "  and  yet  I  will  not  try 
to  justify  my  conduct.  I  swear  to  you,  that  hereafter 
you  shall  have  nothing  to  fear  from  me." 

"  I  fear  nothing,"  uttered  M.  Favoral  with  a  sinister 


80  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

smile.  "  I  know  the  means  of  placing  myself  beyond 
the  reach  of  your  follies ;  and  I  shall  use  them." 

"  I  assure  you,  father,  that  I  have  taken  a  firm  resolu- 
tion." 

"  Oh !  you  may  dispense  with  your  periodical  repent- 
ance." 

Mile.  Gilberte  stepped  forward. 

"  I'll  stand  warrant,"  she  said,  "  for  Maxence's  res- 
olutions." 

Her  father  did  not  permit  her  to  proceed. 

"  Enough,"  he  interrupted  somewhat  harshly.  "  Mind 
your  own  business,  Gilberte!  I  have  to  speak  to  you 
too." 

"  To  me,  father." 

"  Yes." 

He  walked  up  and  down  three  or  four  times  through 
the  parlor,  as  if  to  calm  his  irritation.  Then  planting 
himself  straight  before  his  daughter,  his  arms  folded 
across  his  breast, — 

"  You  are  eighteen  years  of  age,"  he  said ;  "  that  is  to 
say,  it  is  time  to  think  of  your  marriage.  An  excellent 
match  offers  itself." 

She  shuddered,  stepped  back,  and,  redder  than  a 
peony, — 

"  A  match !  "  she  repeated  in  a  tone  of  immense  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  and  which  suits  me." 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  marry,  father." 

"  All  young  girls  say  the  same  thing ;  and,  as  soon  as 
a  pretender  offers  himself,  they  are  delighted.  Mine 
is  a  fellow  of  twenty-six,  quite  good  looking,  amiable, 
witty,  and  who  has  had  the  greatest  success  in  society." 

"  Father,  I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  wish  to  leave 
mother." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  81 

"  Of  course  not.  He  is  an  intelligent,  hard-working 
man,  destined,  everybody  says,  to  make  an  immense  for- 
tune. Although  he  is  rich  already,  for  he  holds  a  con- 
trolling interest  in  a  stock-broker's  firm,  he  works  as 
hard  as  any  poor  devil.  I  would  not  be  surprised  to  hear 
that  he  makes  half  a  million  of  francs  a  year.  His  wife 
will  have  her  carriage,  her  box  at  the  opera,  diamonds, 
and  dresses  as  handsome  as  Mme.  de  Thaller's." 

"  Eh !  What  do  I  care  for  such  things  ?  " 

"  It's  understood.  I'll  present  him  to  you  on  Satur- 
day." 

But  Mile.  Gilberte  was  not  one  of  those  young  girls 
who  allow  themselves,  through  weakness  or  timidity,  to 
become  engaged,  and  so  far  engaged,  that  later,  they  can 
no  longer  withdraw.  A  discussion  being  unavoidable, 
she  preferred  to  have  it  out  at  once. 

"  A  presentation  is  absolutely  useless,  father,"  she  de- 
clared resolutely. 

"Because?" 

"  I  have  told  you  that  I  did  not  wish  to  marry/* 

"  But  if  it  is  my  will  ?  " 

"  I  am  ready  to  obey  you  in  every  thing  except  that." 

"  In  that  as  in  every  thing  else,"  interrupted  the 
cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  in  a  thundering  voice. 

And,  casting  upon  his  wife  and  children  a  glance  full 
of  defiance  and  threats, — 

"  In  that,  as  in  every  thing  else,"  he  repeated,  "  be- 
cause I  am  the  master ;  and  I  shall  prove  it.  Yes,  I  will 
prove  it ;  for  I  am  tired  to  see  my  family  leagued  against 
my  authority." 

And  out  he  went,  slamming  the  door  so  violently,  that 
the  partitions  shook. 

"  You  are  wrong  to  resist  your  father  thus,"  mur- 
mured the  weak  Mme.  Favoral. 


82  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

The  fact  is,  that  the  poor  woman  could  not  under- 
stand why  her  daughter  refused  the  only  means  at  her 
command  to  break  off  with  her  miserable  existence. 

"  Let  him  present  you  this  young  man,"  she  said. 
"  You  might  like  him." 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  like  him." 

She  said  this  in  such  a  tone,  that  the  light  suddenly 
flashed  upon  Mme.  Favoral's  mind. 

"  Heavens !  "  she  murmured.  "  Gilberte,  my  darling 
child,  have  you  then  a  secret  which  your  mother  does 
not  know  ?  " 


XIV. 

YES,  Mile.  Gilberte  had  her  secret, — a  very  simple 
one,  though,  chaste,  like  herself,  and  one  of  those  which, 
as  the  old  women  say,  must  cause  the  angels  to  rejoice. 

The  spring  of  that  year  having  been  unusually  mild,' 
Mme.  Favoral  and  her  daughter  had  taken  the  habit  of 
going  daily  to  bieathe  the  fresh  air  in  the  Place  Royale. 
They  took  their  work  with  them,  crotchet  or  knitting; 
so  that  this  salutary  exercise  did  not  in  any  way  diminish 
the  earnings  of  the  week.  It  was  during  these  walks 
that  Mile.  Gilberte  had  at  last  noticed  a  young  man,  un- 
known to  her,  whom  she  met  every  day  at  the  same 
place. 

Tall  and  robust,  he  had  a  grand  look,  notwithstanding 
his  modest  clothes,  the  exquisite  neatness  of  which  be- 
trayed a  sort  of  respectable  poverty.  He  wore  his  full 
beard;  and  his  proud  and  intelligent  features  were 
lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  large  black  eyes,  of  those  eyes 
whose  straight  and  clear  look  disconcerts  hypocrites  and 
knaves. 

He  never  failed,  as  he  passed  by  Mile.  Gilberte,  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  83 

look  down,  or  turn  his  head  slightly  away ;  and  in  spite 
of  this,  in  spite  of  the  expression  of  respect  which  she 
had  detected  upon  his  face,  she  could  not  help  blushing. 

"  Which  is  absurd,"  she  thought ;  "  for  after  all,  what 
on  earth  do  I  care  for  that  young  man  ?  " 

The  infallible  instinct,  which  is  the  experience  of  in- 
experienced young  girls,  told  her  that  it  was  not  chance 
alone  that  brought  this  stranger  in  her  way.  But  she 
wished  to  make  sure  of  it.  She  managed  so  well,  that 
each  day  of  the  following  week,  the  hour  of  their  walk 
was  changed.  Sometimes  they  went  out  at  noon,  some- 
times after  four  o'clock. 

But,  whatever  the  hour,  Mile.  Gilberte,  as  she  turned 
the  corner  of  the  Rue  des  Minimes,  noticed  her  un- 
known admirer  under  the  arcades,  looking  in  some  shop- 
window,  and  watching  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  As 
soon  as  she  appeared,  he  left  his  post,  and  hurried  fast 
enough  to  meet  her  at  the  gate  of  the  Place. 

"  It  is  a  persecution/'  thought  Mile.  Gilberte. 

How,  then,  had  she  not  spoken  of  it  to  her  mother? 
Why  had  she  not  said  any  thing  to  her  the  day,  when, 
happening,  to  look  out  of  the  window,  she  saw  her 
"  persecutor "  passing  before  the  house,  or  evidently 
looking  in  her  direction? 

"  Am  I  losing  my  mind  ?  "  she  thought,  seriously  ir- 
ritated against  herself.  "  I  will  not  think  of  him  any 
more." 

And  yet  she  was  thinking  of  him,  when  one  after- 
noon, as  her  mother  and  herself  were  working,  sitting 
upon  a  bench,  she  saw  the  stranger  come  and  sit  down 
not  far  from  them.  He  was  accompanied  by  an  elderly 
man  with  long  white  mustaches,  and  wearing  the  rosette 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

"  This  is  an  insolence,"  thought  the  young  girl,  whilst 


84  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONE 

seeking  a  pretext  to  ask  her  mother  to  change  their 
seats. 

But  already  had  the  young  man  and  his  elderly  friend 
seated  themselves,  and  so  arranged  their  chairs,  that 
Mile.  Gilberte  could  not  miss  a  word  of  what  they  were 
about  to  say.  It  was  the  young  man  who  spoke  first. 

"  You  know  me  as  well  as  I  know  myself,  my  dear 
count,"  he  commenced, — "  you  who  were  my  poor 
father's  best  friend,  you  who  dandled  me  upon  your 
knees  when  I  was  a  child,  and  who  has  never  lost  sight  of 
me." 

"  Which  is  to  say,  my  boy,  that  I  answer  for  you  as 
for  myself,"  put  in  the  old  man.  "  But  go  on/' 

"  I  am  twenty-six  years  old.  My  name  is  Yves- 
Marius-Genost  de  Tregars.  My  family,  which  is  one  of 
the  oldest  of  Brittany,  is  allied  to  all  the  great  families." 

"  Perfectly  exact,"  remarked  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Unfortunately,  my  fortune  is  not  on  a  par  with  my 
nobility.  When  my  mother  died,  in  1856,  my  father, 
who  worshipped  her,  could  no  longer  bear,  in  the  inten- 
sity of  his  grief,  to  remain  at  the  Chateau  de  Tregars 
where  he  had  spent  his  whole  life.  He  came  to  Paris, 
which  he  could  well  afford.,  since  we  were  rich  then,  but 
unfortunately,  made  acquaintances  who  soon  inoculated 
him  with  the  fever  of  the  age.  They  proved  to  him  that 
he  was  mad  to  keep  lands  which  barely  yielded  him  forty 
thousand  francs  a  year,  and  which  he  could  easily  sell 
for  two  millions ;  which  amount,  invested  merely  at  five 
per  cent,  would  yield  him  an  income  of  one  hundred 
thousand  francs.  He  therefore  sold  every  thing,  except 
our  patrimonial  homestead  on  the  road  from  Quimper 
to  Audierne,  and  rushed  into  speculations.  He  was 
rather  lucky  at  first.  But  he  was  too  honest  and  too 
loyal  to  be  lucky  long.  An  operation  in  which  he  be- 


But  already  had  the  young  man  and  his  elderly  friend  seated 
themselves  and  so  arranged  their  chairs  that  Mile.  Gilberte 
could  not  miss  a  word  of  what  they  were  about  to  say. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  85 

came  interested  early  in  1869  turned  out  badly.  His  as- 
sociates became  rich;  but  he,  I  know  not  how,  was 
ruined,  and  came  near  being  compromised.  He  died  of 
grief  a  month  later." 

The  old  soldier  was  nodding  his  assent. 

"  Very  well,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "  But  you  are  too 
modest;  and  there's  a  circumstance  which  you  neglect. 
You  had  a  right,  when  your  father  became  involved  in 
these  troubles,  to  claim  and  retain  your  mother's  for- 
tune; that  is,  some  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year.  Not 
only  you  did  not  do  so ;  but  you  gave  up  every  thing  to 
his  creditors.  You  sold  the  domain  of  Tregars,  except 
the  old  castle  and  its  park,  and  paid  over  the  proceeds 
to  them ;  so  that,  if  your  father  did  die  ruined,  at  least 
he  did  not  owe  a  cent.  And  yet  you  knew,  as  well  as 
myself,  that  your  father  had  been  deceived  and  swindled 
by  a  lot  of  scoundrels  who  drive  their  carriages  now, 
and  who,  perhaps,  if  the  courts  were  applied  to,  might 
still  be  made  to  disgorge  their  ill-gotten  plunder." 

Her  head  bent  upon  her  tapestry,  Mile.  Gilberte 
seemed  to  be  working  with  incomparable  zeal.  The  truth 
is,  she  knew  not  how  to  conceal  the  blushes  on  her 
cheeks,  and  the  trembling  of  her  hands.  She  had  some- 
thing like  a  cloud  before  her  eyes;  and  she  drove  her 
needle  at  random.  She  scarcely  preserved  enough  pres- 
ence of  mind  to  reply  to  Mme.  Favoral,  who,  not  notic- 
ing any  thing,  spoke  to  her  from  time  to  time. 

Indeed,  the  meaning  of  this  scene  was  too  clear  to 
escape  her. 

"  They  have  had  an  understanding,"  she  thought, 
"  and  it  is  for  me  alone  that  they  are  speaking." 

Meantime,  Marius  de  Tregars  was  going  on, — 

"  I  should  lie,  my  old  friend,  were  I  to  say  that  I  was 
indifferent  to  our  ruin.  Philosopher  though  one  may 


86  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

be,  it  is  not  without  some  pangs  that  one  passes  from 
a  sumptuous  hotel  to  a  gloomy  garret.  But  what 
grieved  me  most  of  all  was  that  I  saw  myself  compelled 
to  give  up  the  labors  which  had  been  the  joy  of  my  life, 
and  upon  which  I  had  founded  the  most  magnificent 
hopes.  A  positive  vocation,  stimulated  further  by  the 
accidents  of  my  education,  had  led  me  to  the  study  of 
physical  sciences.  For  several  years,  I  had  applied  all 
I  have  of  intelligence  and  energy  to  certain  investiga- 
tions in  electricity.  To  convert  electricity  into  an  in- 
comparable motive-power  which  would  supersede  steam, 
— such  was  the  object  I  pursued  without  pause.  Al- 
ready, as  you  know,  although  quite  young,  I  had  ob- 
tained results  which  had  attracted  some  attention  in  the 
scientific  world.  I  thought  I  could  see  the  last  of  a  prob- 
lem, the  solution  of  which  would  change  the  face  of  the 
globe.  Ruin  was  the  death  of  my  hopes,  the  total  loss  of 
the  fruits  of  my  labors ;  for  my  experiments  were  costly, 
and  it  required  money,  much  money,  to  purchase  the 
products  which  were  indispensable  to  me,  and  to  con- 
struct the  machines  which  I  contrived. 

"  And  I  was  about  being  compelled  to  earn  my  daily 
bread. 

"  I  was  on  the  verge  of  despair,  when  I  met  a  man 
whom  I  had  formerly  seen  at  my  father's,  and  who 
had  seemed  to  take  some  interest  in  my  researches,  a 
speculator  named  Marcolet.  But  it  is  not  at  the  bourse 
that  he  operates.  Industry  is  the  field  of  his  labors. 
Ever  on  the  lookout  for  those  obstinate  inventors  who 
are  starring  to  death  in  their  garrets,  he  appears  to  them 
at  the  hour  of  supreme  crisis :  he  pities  them,  encourages 
them,  consoles  them,  helps  them,  and  almost  always  suc- 
ceeds in  becoming  the  owner  of  their  discovery.  Some- 


times  he  makes  a  mistake ;  and  then  all  he  has  to  do  is  to 
put  a  few  thousand  francs  to  the  debit  of  profit  or  loss. 
But,  if  he  has  judged  right,  then  he  counts  his  profits 
by  hundreds  of  thousands ;  and  how  many  patents  does 
he  work  thus!  Of  how  many  inventions  does  he  reap 
the  results  which  are  a  fortune,  and  the  inventors  of 
which  have  no  shoes  to  wear!  Every  thing  is  good  to 
him;  and  he  defends  with  the  same  avidity  a  cough- 
sirup,  the  formula  of  which  he  has  purchased  of  some 
poor  devil  of  a  druggist,  and  an  improvement  to  the 
steam-engine,  the  patent  for  which  has  been  sold  to  him 
by  an  engineer  of  genius.  And  yet  Marcolet  is  not 
a  bad  man.  Seeing  my  situation,  he  offered  me.  a  cer- 
tain yearly  sum  to  undertake  some  studies  of  indus- 
trial chemistry  which  he  indicated  to  me.  I  accepted; 
and  the  very  next  day  I  hired  a  small  basement  in  the 
Rue  des  Tournelles,  where  I  set  up  my  laboratory,  and 
went  to  work  at  once.  That  was  a  year  ago.  Marcolet 
must  be  satisfied.  I  have  already  found  for  him  a  new 
shade  for  dyeing  silk,  the  cost  price  of  which  is  almost 
nothing.  As  to  me,  I  have  lived  with  the  strictest  econo- 
my, devoting  all  my  surplus  earnings  to  the  prosecution 
of  the  problem,  the  solution  of  which  would  give  me 
both  glory  and  fortune." 

Palpitating  with  inexpressible  emotion,  Mile.  Gilberte 
was  listening  to  this  young  man,  unknown  to  her  a  few 
moments  since,  and  whose  whole  history  she  now  knew 
as  well  as  if  she  had  always  lived  near  him ;  for  it  never 
occurred  to  her  to  suspect  his  sincerity. 

No  voice  had  ever  vibrated  to  her  ear  like  this  voice, 
whose  grave  sonorousness  stirred  within  her  strange 
sensations,  and  legions  of  thoughts  which  she  had  never 
suspected.  She  was  surprised  at  the  accent  of  sim- 


88  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

plicity  with  which  he  spoke  of  the  illustriousness  of  his 
family,  of  his  past  opulence,  of  his  obscure  labors,  and 
of  his  exalted  hopes. 

She  admired  the  superb  disregard  for  money  which 
beamed  forth  in  his  every  word.  Here  was  then  one 
man,  at  least,  who  despised  that  money  before  which 
she  had  hitherto  seen  all  the  people  she  knew  prostrated 
in  abject  worship. 

After  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  Marius  de  Tregars, 
still  addressing  himself  apparently  to  his  aged  com- 
panion, went  on, — 

"  I  repeat  it,  because  it  is  the  truth,  my  old  friend, 
this  life  of  labor  and  privation,  so  new  to  me,  was  not 
a  burden.  Calm,  silence,  the  constant  exercise  of  all  the 
faculties  of  the  intellect,  have  charms  which  the  vulgar 
can  never  suspect.  I  was  happy  to  think,  that,  if  I  was 
ruined,  it  was  through  an  act  of  my  own  will.  I  found 
a  positive  pleasure  in  the  fact  that  I,  the  Marquis  de 
Tregars,  who  had  had  a  hundred  thousand  a  year, — I 
must  the  next  moment  go  out  in  person  to  the  baker's 
and  the  green-grocer's  to  purchase  my  supplies  for  the 
day.  I  was  proud  to  think  that  it  was  to  my  labor  alone, 
to  the  work  for  which  I  was  paid  by  Marcolet,  that  I 
owed  the  means  of  prosecuting  my  task.  And,  from  the 
summits  where  I  was  carried  on  the  wings  of  science, 
I  took  pity  on  your  modern  existence,  on  that  ridiculous 
and  tragical  medley  of  passions,  interests,  and  cravings1; 
that  struggle  without  truce  or  mercy,  whose  law  is,  woe 
to  the  weak,  in  which  whosoever  falls  is  trampled  under 
feet. 

"  Sometimes,  however,  like  a  fire  that  has  been  smoul- 
dering under  the  ashes,  the  flame  of  youthful  passions 
blazed  up  within  me.  I  had  hours  of  madness,  of  dis- 
couragement, of  distress,  during  which  solitude  was 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  89 

loathsome  to  me.  But  I  had  the  faith  which  raises 
mountains, — faith  in  myself  and  my  work.  And  soon, 
tranquilized,  I  would  go  to  sleep  in  the  purple  of  hope, 
beholding  in  the  vista  of  the  distant  future  the  triumphal 
arches  erected  to  my  success. 

"  Such  was  my  situation,  when,  one  afternoon  in 
the  month  of  February  last,  after  an  experiment  upon 
which  I  had  founded  great  hopes,  and  which  had  just 
miserably  failed,  I  came  here  to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air. 

"  It  was  a  beautiful  spring  day,  warm  and  sunny. 
The  sparrows  were  chirping  on  the  branches,  swelled 
with  sap :  bands  of  children  were  running  along  the  al- 
leys, filling  the  air  with  their  joyous  screams. 

"  I  was  sitting  upon  a  bench,  ruminating  over  the 
causes  of  my  failure,  when  two  ladies  passed  by  me ;  one 
somewhat  aged,  the  other  quite  young.  They  were 
walking  so  rapidly,  that  I  hardly  had  time  to  see  them. 

"  But  the  young  lady's  step,  the  noble  simplicity  of  her 
carriage,  had  struck  me  so  much,  that  I  rose  to  follow 
her  with  the  intention  of  passing  her,  and  then  walking 
back  to  have  a  good  view  of  her  face.  I  did  so ;  and  I 
was  fairly  dazzled.  At  the  moment  when  my  eyes  met 
hers,  a  voice  rose  within  me,  crying  that  it  was  all  over 
now,  and  that  my  destiny  was  fixed." 

"  I  remember,  my  dear  boy,"  remarked  the  old  sol- 
dier in  a  tone  of  friendly  raillery ;  "  for  you  came  to  see 
me  that  night,  and  I  had  not  seen  you  for  months  be- 
fore." 

Marius  proceeded  without  heeding  the  remark. 

"  And  yet  you  know  that  I  am  not  the  man  to  yield  to 
a  first  impression.  I  struggled:  with  determined  en- 
ergy I  strove  to  drive  off  that  radiant  image  which  I 
carried  within  my  soul,  which  left  me  no  more,  which 
haunted  me  in  the  midst  of  my  studies. 


90  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Vain  efforts.  My  thoughts  obeyed  me  no  longer : 
my  will  escaped  my  control.  It  was  indeed  one  of  those 
passions  that  fill  the  whole  being,  overpower  all,  and 
which  make  of  life  an  ineffable  felicity  or  a  nameless  tor- 
ture, according  that  they  are  reciprocated,  or  not.  How 
many  days  I  spent  there,  waiting  and  watching  for  her 
of  whom  I  had  thus  had  a  glimpse,  and  who  ignored  my 
very  existence!  And  what  insane  palpitations,  when, 
after  hours  of  consuming  anxiety,  I  saw  at  the  corner  of 
the  street  the  undulating  folds  of  her  dress !  I  saw  her 
thus  often,  and  always  with  the  same  elderly  person,  her 
mother.  They  had  adopted  in  this  square  a  particular 
bench,  where  they  sat  daily,  working  at  their  sewing 
with  an  assiduity  and  zeal  which  made  me  think  that 
they  lived  upon  the  product  of  their  labor." 

Here  he  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  his  companion. 
The  old  gentleman  feared  that  Mme.  Favoral's  attention 
might  at  last  be  attracted  by  too  direct  allusions. 

"  Take  care,  boy !  "  he  whispered,  not  so  low,  how- 
ever, but  what  Gilberte  overheard  him. 

But  it  would  have  required  much  more  than  this  to 
draw  Mme.  Favoral  from  her  sad  thoughts.  She  had 
just  finished  her  band  of  tapestry ;  and,  grieving  to  lose 
a  moment, — 

"  It  is  perhaps  time  to  go  home,"  she  said  to  her 
daughter.  "  I  have  nothing  more  to  do." 

Mile.  Gilberte  drew  from  her  basket  a  piece  of  canvas, 
and,  handing  it  to  her  mother, — 

"  Here  is  enough  to  go  on  with,  mamma,"  she  said 
in  a  troubled  voice.  "  Let  us  stay  a  little  while  longer." 

And,  Mme.  Favoral  having  resumed  her  work,  Ma- 
rius  proceeded, — 

"  The  thought  that  she  whom  I  loved  was  poor  de- 
lighted me.  Was  not  this  similarity  of  positions  a  link 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  9! 

between  us?  I  felt  a  childish  joy  to  think  that  I  would 
work  for  her  and  for  her  mother,  and  that  they  would 
be  indebted  to  me  for  their  ease  and  comfort  in  life. 

"  But  I  am  not  one  of  those  dreamers  who  confide 
their  destiny  to  the  wings  of  a  chimera.  Before  under- 
taking any  thing,  I  resolved  to  inform  myself.  Alas ! 
at  the  first  words  that  I  heard,  all  my  fine  dreams  took 
wings.  I  heard  that  she  was  rich,  very  rich.  I  was 
told  that  her  father  was  one  of  those  men  whose  rigid 
probity  surrounds  itself  with  austere  and  harsh  forms. 
He  owed  his  fortune,  I  was  assured,  to*  his  sole  labor, 
but  also  to  prodigies  of  economy  and  the  most  severe 
privations.  He  professed  a  worship,  they  said,  for  that 
gold  that  had  cost  him  so  much;  and  he  would  never 
give  the  hand  of  his  daughter  to  a  man  who  had  no 
money.  This  last  comment  was  useless.  Above  my  ac- 
tions, my  thoughts,  my  hopes,  higher  than  all,  soars  my 
pride.  Instantly  I  saw  an  abyss  opening  between  me 
and  her  whom  I  love  more  than  my  life,  but  less  than 
my  dignity.  When  a  man's  name  is  Genost  de  Tregars, 
he  must  support  his  wife,  were  it  by  breaking  stones. 
And  the  thought  that  I  owed  my  fortune  to  the  woman 
I  married  would  make  me  execrate  her. 

"  You  must  remember,  my  old  friend,  that  I  told  you 
all  this  at  the  time.  You  thought,  too,  that  it  was  singu- 
larly impertinent,  on  my  part,  thus  to  flare  up  in  advance, 
because  certainly  a  millionaire  does  not  give  his  daugh- 
ter to  a  ruined  nobleman  in  the  pay  of  Marcolet,  the 
patent-broker,  to  a  poor  devil  of  an  inventor,  who  is 
building  the  castles  of  his  future  upon  the  solution  of  a 
problem  which  has  been  given  up  by  the  most  brilliant 
minds. 

"  It  was  then  that  I  determined  upon  an  extreme  res- 
olution, a  foolish  one,  no  doubt,  and  yet  to  which  you, 


92  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  Count  de  Villegre,  my  father's  old  friend,  you  have 
consented  to  lend  yourself. 

"  I  thought  that  I  would  address  myself  to  her,  to  her 
alone,  and  that  she  would  at  least  know  what  great,  what 
immense  love  she  had  inspired.  I  thought  I  would  go  to 
her  anci  tell  her,  '  This  is  who  I  am,  and  what  I  am. 
For  mercy's  sake,  grant  me  a  respite  of  three  years. 
To  a  love  such  as  mine  there  is  nothing  impossible.  In 
three  years  I  shall  be  dead,  or  rich  enough  to  ask  your 
hand.  From  this  day  forth,  I  give  up  my  task  for  work 
of  more  immediate  profit.  The  arts  of  industry  have 
treasures  for  successful  inventors.  If  you  could  only 
read  in  my  soul,  you  would  not  refuse  me  the  delay  I  am 
asking.  Forgive  me !  One  word,  for  mercy's  sake,  only 
one !  It  is  my  sentence  that  I  am  awaiting.'  " 

Mile.  Gilberte's  thoughts  were  in  too  great  a  state  of 
confusion  to  permit  her  to  think  of  being  offended  at 
this  extraordinary  proceeding. 

She  rose,  quivering,  and  addressing  herself  to  Mme. 
Favoral, — 

"  Come,  mother,"  she  said,  "  come :  I  feel  that  I  have 
taken  cold.  I  must  go  home  and  think.  To-morrow, 
yes,  to-morrow,  we  will  come  again." 

Deep  as  Mme.  Favoral  was  plunged  in  her  medita- 
tions, and  a  thousand  miles  as  she  was  from  the  actual 
situation,  it  was  impossible  that  she  should  not  notice 
the  intense  excitement  under  which  her  daughter  la- 
bored, the  alteration  of  her  features,  and  the  incoher- 
ence of  her  words. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked,  somewhat  alarmed. 
"  What  are  you  saying?  " 

"  I  feel  unwell,"  answered  her  daughter  in  a  scarcely 
audible  voice,  "  quite  unwell.  Come,  let  us  go  home." 

As  soon  as  they  reached  home,  Mile.  Gilberte  took 


93 

refuge  in  her  own  room.  She  was  in  haste  to  be  alone, 
to  recover  her  self-possession,  to  collect  her  thoughts, 
more  scattered  than  dry  leaves  by  a  storm  wind. 

It  was  a  momentous  event  which  had  just  suddenly 
fallen  in  her  life  so  monotonous  and  so  calm, — an  in- 
conceivable, startling  event,  the  consequences  of  which 
were  to  weigh  heavily  upon 'her  entire  future. 

Staggering  still,  she  was  asking  herself  if  she  was  not 
the  victim  of  an  hallucination,  and  if  really  there  was 
a  man  who  had  dared  to  conceive  and  execute  the  auda- 
cious project  of  coming  thus  under  the  eyes  of  her 
mother,  of  declaring  his  love,  and  of  asking  her  in  re- 
turn a  solemn  engagement.  But  what  stupefied  her 
more  still,  what  confused  her,  was  that  she  had  actually 
endured  such  an  attempt. 

Under  what  despotic  influence  had  she,  then,  fallen? 
To  what  undefinable  sentiments  had  she  obeyed  ?  And  if 
she  had  only  tolerated !  But  she  had  done  more :  she  had 
actually  encouraged.  By  detaining  her  mother  when 
she  wished  to  go  home  (and  she  had  detained  her),  had 
she  not  said  to  this  unknown  ? — 

"  Go  on,  I  allow  it :    I  am  listening." 

And  he  had  gone  on.  And  she,  at  the  moment  of  re- 
turning home,  she  had  engaged  herself  formally  to  re- 
flect, and  to  return  the  next  day  at  a  stated  hour  to  give 
an  answer.  In  a  word,  she  had  made  an  appointment 
with  him. 

It  was  enough  to  make  her  die  of  shame.  And,  as 
if  she  had  needed  the  sound  of  her  own  words  to  con- 
vince herself  of  the  reality  of  the  fact,  she  kept  repeating 
loud, — 

"  I  have  made  an  appointment, — I,  Gilberte,  with  a 
man  whom  my  parents  do  not  know,  and  of  whose  name 
I  was  still  ignorant  yesterday." 


94 

And  yet  she  could  not  take  upon  herself  to  be  indig- 
nant at  the  imprudent  boldness  of  her  conduct.  The 
bitterness  of  the  reproaches  which  she  was  addressing  to 
herself  was  not  sincere.  She  felt  it  so  well,  that  at 
last, — 

"  Such  hypocrisy  is  unworthy  of  me."  she  exclaimed, 
"  since  now,  still,  and  without  the  excuse  of  being  taken 
by  surprise,  I  would  not  act  otherwise." 

The  fact  is,  the  more  she  pondered,  the  less  she  could 
succeed  in  discovering  even  the  shadow  of  any  offensive 
intention  in  all  that  Marius  de  Tregars  had  said.  By 
the  choice  of  his  confidant,  an  old  man,  a  friend  of  his 
family,  a  man  of  the  highest  respectability,  he  had  done 
all  in  his  power  to  make  his  step  excusable.  It  was  im- 
possible to  doubt  his  sincerity,  to  suspect  the  fairness  of 
his  intentions. 

Mile.  Gilberte,  better  than  almost  any  other  young 
girl,  could  understand  the  extreme  measure  resorted  to 
by  M.  de  Tregars.  By  her  own  pride  she  could  under- 
stand his.  No  more  than  he,  in  his  place,  would  she 
have  been  willing  to  expose  herself  to  a  certain  refusal. 
What  was  there,  then,  so  extraordinary  in  the  fact  of  his 
coming  directly  to  her,  in  his  exposing  to  her  frankly 
and  loyally  his  situation,  his  projects,  and  his  hopes? 

"  Good  heavens !  "  she  thought,  horrified  at  the  sen- 
timents which  she  discovered  in  the  deep  recesses  of  her 
soul,  "  good  heavens !  I  hardly  know  myself  any  more. 
Here  I  am  actually  approving  what  he  has  done !  " 

Well,  yes,  she  did  approve  him,  attracted,  fascinated, 
by  the  very  strangeness  of  the  situation.  Nothing 
seemed  to  her  more  admirable  than  the  conduct  of  Ma- 
xrius  de  Tregars  sacrificing:  his  fortune  and  his  most  le- 
gitimate aspirations  to  the  honor  of  his  name,  and  con- 
demning himself  to  work  for  his  living. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  95 

"  That  one,"  she  thought,  "  is  a  man ;  and  his  wife 
will  have  just  cause  to  be  proud  of  him." 

Involuntarily  she- compared  him  to  the  only  men  she 
knew, — to  M.  Favoral,  whose  miserly  parsimony  had 
made  his  whole  family  wretched;  to  Maxence,  who  did 
not  blush  to  feed  his  disorders  with  the  fruits  of  his 
mother's  and  his  sister's  labor. 

How  different  was  Marius !  If  he  was  poor,  it  was  of 
his  own  will.  Had  she  not  seen  what  confidence  he  had 
in  himself.  She  shared  it  fully.  She  felt  certain,  that, 
within  the  required  delay,  he  would  conquer  that  indis- 
pensable fortune.  Then  he  might  present  himself  boldly. 
He  would  take  her  away  from  the  miserable  surround- 
ings among  which  she  seemed  fated  to  live:  she  would 
become  the  Marchioness  de  Tregars. 

"  Why,  then,  not  answer,  Yes !  "  thought  she,  with  the 
harrowing  emotions  of  the  gambler  who  is  about  to  stake 
his  all  upon  one  card.  And  what  a  game  for  Mile.  Gil- 
berte,  and  what  a  stake ! 

Suppose  she  had  been  mistaken.  Suppose  that  Ma- 
rius should  be  one  of  those  villains  who  make  of  seduc- 
tion a  science.  Would  she  still  be  her  own  mistress, 
after  answering?  Did  she  know  to  what  hazards  such 
an  engagement  would  expose  her?  Was  she  not  about 
rushing  blindfolded  towards  those  deceiving1  'perils 
where  a  young  girl  leaves  her  reputation,  even  when  she 
saves  her  honor  ? 

She  thought,  for  a  moment,  of  consulting  her  mother. 
But  she  knew  Mme.  Favoral's  shrinking  timidity,  and 
that  she  was  as  incapable  of  giving  any  advice  as  to 
make  her  will  prevail.  She  would  be  frightened;  she 
would  approve  all;  and,  at  the  first  alarm,  she  would 
confess  all. 

"  Am  I,  then,  so  weak  and  so  foolish,"  she  thought, 


96  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  that  I  cannot  take  a  determination  which  affects  me 
personally  ?  " 

She  could  not  close  her  eyes  all  night;  but  in  the 
morning  her  resolution  was  settled. 

And  toward  one  o'clock, — 

"  Are  we  not  going  out  mother  ?  "  she  said. 

Mme.  Favoral  was  hesitating. 

"  These  early  spring  days  are  treacherous,"  she  ob- 
jected :  "  you  caught  cold  yesterday.'' 

"  My  dress  was  too  thin.  To-day  I  have  taken  my 
precautions." 

They  started,  taking  their  work  with  them,  and  came 
to  occupy  their  accustomed  seats. 

Before  they  had  even  passed  the  gates,  Mile.  Gilberte 
had  recognized  Marius  de  Tregars  and  the  Count  de 
Villegre,  walking  in  one  of  the  side  alleys.  Soon,  as 
on  the  day  before,  they  took  two  chairs,  and  settled 
themselves  within  hearing. 

Never  had  the  young  girl's  heart  beat  with  such  vio- 
lence. It  is  easy  enough  to  take  a  resolution ;  but  it  is  not 
always  quite  so  easy  to  execute  it,  and  she  was  ask- 
ing herself  if  she  would  have  strength  enough  to  ar- 
ticulate a  word.  At  last,  gathering  her  whole  cour- 
age— 

"  You  don't  believe  in  dreams,  do  you  mother  ?  "  she 
asked. 

Upon  this  subject,  as  well  as  upon  many  others,  Mme. 
Favoral  had  no  particular  opinion. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  the  question  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Because  I  have  had  such  a  strange  one." 

"Oh!" 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  suddenly  a  young  man,  whom 
I  did  not  know,  stood  before  me.  He  would  have  been 
most  happy,  said  he  to  me,  to  ask  my  hand,  but  he  dared 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  97 

not,  being  very  poor.  And  he  begged  me  to  wait  three 
years,  during  which  he  would  make  his  fortune." 

Mme.  Favoral  smiled. 

"  Why  it's  quite  a  romance,"  said  she. 

"  But  it  wasn't  a  romance  in  my  dream,"  interrupted 
Mile.  Gilberte.  "  This  young  man  spoke  in  a  tone  of 
such  profound  conviction,  that  it  was  impossible  for  me, 
as  it  were,  to  doubt  him.  I  thought  to  myself  that  he 
would  be  incapable  of  such  an  odious  villainy  as  to 
abuse  the  confiding  credulity  of  a  poor  girl." 

"  And  what  did  you  answer  him?  " 

Moving  her  seat  almost  imperceptibly,  Mile.  Gilberte 
could,  from  the  corner  of  her  eye,  have  a  glimpse  of  M. 
de  Tregars.  Evidently  he  was  not  missing  a  single  one 
of  the  words  which  she  was  addressing  to  her  mother. 
He  was  whiter  than  a  sheet;  and  his  face  betrayed  the 
most  intense  anxiety. 

This  gave  her  the  energy  to  curb  the  last  revolts  of 
her  conscience. 

"  To  answer  was  painful,"  she  uttered ;  "  and  yet  I 
dared  to  answer  him.  I  said  to  him,  '  I  believe  you,  and 
I  have  faith  in  you.  Loyally  and  faithfully  I  shall  await 
your  success ;  but  until  then  we  must  be  strangers  to  one 
another.  To  resort  to  ruse,  deceit,  and  falsehood  would 
be  unworthy  of  us.  You  surely  would  not  expose  to  a 
suspicion  her  who  is  to  be  your  wife.'  " 

"  Very  well,"  approved  Mme.  Favoral ;  "  only  I  did 
not  know  you  were  so  romantic." 

She  was  laughing,  the  good  lady,  but  not  loud  enough 
to  prevent  Gilberte  from  hearing  M.  de  Tregar's  an- 
swer. 

"  Count  de  Villegre,"  said  he,  "  my  old  friend,  re- 
ceive the  oath  which  I  take  to  devote  my  life  to  her  who 
has  not  doubted  me.  It  is  to-day  the  4th  of  May,  1870 : 


98  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

on  the  4th  of  May,  1873,  I  shall  have  succeeded:  I  feel 
it,  I  will  it,  it  must  be ! " 


XV. 

IT  was  done:  Gilberte  Favoral  had  just  irrevocably 
disposed  of  herself.  Prosperous  or  wretched,  her  des- 
tiny henceforth  was  linked  with  another.  She  had  set 
the  wheel  in  motion;  and  she  could  no  longer  hope  to 
control  its  direction,  any  more  than  the  will  can  pretend 
to  alter  the  course  of  the  ivory  ball  upon  the  surface 
of  the  roulette-table.  At  the  outset  of  this  great  storm 
of  passion  which  had  suddenly  surrounded  her,  she  felt 
an  immense  surprise,  mingled  with  unexplained  appre- 
hensions and  vague  terrors. 

Around  her,  apparently,  nothing  was  changed. 
Father,  mother,  brother,  friends,  gravitated  mechanic- 
ally in  their  accustomed  orbits.  The  same  daily  facts 
repeated  themselves  monotonous  and  regular  as  the  tick- 
tack  of  the  clock. 

And  yet  an  event  had  occurred  more  prodigious  for 
her  than  the  moving  of  a  mountain. 

Often  during  the  weeks  that  followed,  she  would  re- 
peat to  herself,  "  Is  it  true,  is  it  possible  even  ?  " 

Or  else  she  would  run  to  a  mirror  to  make  sure  once 
more  that  nothing  upon  her  face  or  in  her  eyes  betrayed 
the  secret  that  palpitated  within  her. 

The  singularity  of  the  situation  was,  moreover,  well 
calculated  to  trouble  and  confound  her  mind. 

Mastered  by  circumstances,  she  had  in  utter  disregard 
of  all  accepted  ideas,  and  of  the  commonest  propriety, 
listened  to  the  passionate  promises  of  a  stranger,  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  99 

pledged  her  life  to  him.  And,  the  pact  concluded  and 
solemnly  sworn,  they  had  parted  without  knowing  when 
propitious  circumstances  might  bring  them  together 
again. 

"  Certainly,"  thought  she,  "  before  God,  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  is  my  betrothed  husband;  and  yet  we  have  never 
exchanged  a  word.  Were  we  to  meet  in  society,  we 
should  be  compelled  to  meet  as  strangers :  if  he  passes  by 
me  in  the  street,  he  has  no  right  to  bow  to  me.  I  know 
not  where  he  is,  what  becomes  of  him,  nor  what  he  is 
doing." 

And  in  fact  she  had  not  seen  him  again :  he  had  given 
no  sign  of  life,  so  faithfully  did  he  conform  to  her  ex- 
pressed wish.  And  perhaps  secretly,  and  without  ac- 
knowledging it  to  herself,  had  she  wished  him  less  scru- 
pulous. Perhaps  she  would  not  have  been  very  angry 
to  see  him  sometimes  gliding  along  at  her  passage  under 
the  old  Arcades  of  the  Rue  des  Vosges. 

But,  whilst  suffering  from  this  separation,  she  con- 
ceived for  the  character  of  Marius  the  highest  esteem; 
for  she  felt  sure  that  he  must  suffer  as  much  and  more 
than  she  from  the  restraint  which  he  imposed  upon 
himself. 

Thus  he  was  ever  present  to  her  thoughts.  She 
never  tired  of  turning  over  in  her  mind  all  he  had  said  of 
his  past  life :  she  tried  to  remember  his  words,  and  the 
very  tone  of  his  voice. 

And  by  living  constantly  thus  with  the  memory  of 
Marius  de  Tregars,  she  made  herself  familiar  with  him, 
deceived  to  that  extent,  by  the  illusion  of  absence,  that 
she  actually  persuaded  herself  that  she  knew  him  better 
and  better  every  day. 

Already  nearly  a  month  had  elapsed,  when  one  after- 
noon, as  she  arrived  on  the  Place  Royale,  she  recog- 


ioo     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

nized  him,  standing  near  that  same  bench  where  they 
had  so  strangely  exchanged  their  pledges. 

He  saw  her  coming  too :  she  knew  it  by  his  looks.  But, 
when  she  had  arrived  within  a  few  steps  of  him,  he 
walked  off  rapidly,  leaving  on  the  bench  a  folded  news- 
paper. 

Mme.  Favoral  wished  to  call  him  back  and  return 
it ;  but  Mile.  Gilberte  persuaded  her  not  to. 

"  Never  mind,  mother,"  said  she,  "  it  isn't  worth 
while ;  and,  besides,  the  gentleman  is  too  far  now." 

But  while  getting  out  her  embroidery,  with  that  dex- 
terity which  never  fails  even  the  most  naive  girls,  she 
slipped  the  newspaper  in  her  work-basket. 

Was  she  not  certain  that  it  had  been  left  there  for 
her? 

As  soon  as  she  had  returned  home,  she  locked  herself 
up  in  her  own  room,  and,  after  searching  for  some 
time  through  the  columns,  she  read  at  last, — 

"  One  of  the  richest  and  most  intelligent  manufac- 
turers in  Paris,  M.  Marcolet,  has  just  purchased  in 
Crenelle  the  vast  grounds  belonging  to  the  Lacoche  es- 
tate. He  proposes  to  build  upon  them  a  manufacture  of 
chemical  products,  the  management  of  which  is  to  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  M.  de  T . 

"  Although  still  quite  young,  M.  de  T is  already 

well  known  in  connection  with  his  remarkable  studies 
on  electricity.  He  was,  perhaps,  on  the  eve  of  solving 
the  much  controverted  problem  of  electricity  as  a  mo- 
tive-power, when  his  father's  ruin  compelled  him  to  sus- 
pend his  labors.  He  now  seeks  to  earn  by  his  personal 
industry  the  means  of  prosecuting  his  costly  experi- 
ments. 

"  He  is  not  the  first  to  tread  this  path.  Is  it  not  to 
the  invention  of  the  machine  bearing  his  name,  that  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     101 

engineer  Giffard  owes  the  fortune  which  enables  him 
to  continue  to  seek  the  means  of  steering  balloons? 

Why  should  not  M.  de  T ,  who  has  as  much  skill 

and  energy,  have  as  much  luck  ?  " 

"  Ah !  he  does  not  forget  me,"  thought  Mile.  Gilberte, 
moved  to  tears  by  this  article,  which,  after  all,  was  but 
a  mere  puff,  written  by  Marcolet  himself,  without  the 
knowledge  of  M.  de  Tregars. 

She  was  still  under  that  impression,  thinking  that 
Marius  was  already  at  work,  when  her  father  announced 
to  her  that  he  had  discovered  a  husband,  and  enjoined 
her  to  find  him  to  her  liking,  as  he,  the  master,  thought 
it  proper  that  she  should. 

Hence  the  energy  of  her  refusal. 

But  hence  also,  the  imprudent  vivacity  which  had  en- 
lightened Mme.  Favoral,  and  which  made  her  say, — 

"  You  hide  something  from  me,  Gilberte  ?  " 

Never  had  the  young  girl  been  so  cruelly  embar- 
rassed as  she  was  at  this  moment  by  this  sudden  and  un- 
foreseen perspicacity. 

Would  she  confide  to  her  mother? 

She  felt,  indeed,  no  repugnance  to  do  so,  certain  as 
she  was,  in  advance,  of  the  inexhaustible  indulgence  of 
the  poor  woman ;  and,  besides,  she  would  have  been  de- 
lighted to  have  some  one  at  last  with  whom  she  could 
speak  of  Marius. 

But  she  knew  that  her  father  was  not  the  man  to  give 
up  a  project  conceived  by  himself.  She  knew  that  he 
would  return  to  the  charge  obstinately,  without  peace, 
and  without  truce.  Now,  as  she  was  determined  to  re- 
sist writh  a  no  less  implacable  obstinacy,  she  foresaw  ter- 
rible struggles,  all  sorts  of  violence  and  persecutions. 

Informed  of  the  truth,  would  Mme.  Favoral  have 
strength  enough  to  resist  these  daily  storms?  Would 


102  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

not  a  time  come,  when,  called  upon  by  her  husband  to 
explain  the  refusals  of  her  daughter,  threatened,  terri- 
fied, she  would  confess  all  ? 

At  one  glance  Mile.  Gilberte  estimated  the  danger; 
and,  drawing  from  necessity  an  audacity  which  was  very 
foreign  to  her  nature, — 

"  You  are  mistaken,  dear  mother,"  said  she,  "  I  have 
concealed  nothing  from  you." 

Not  quite  convinced,  Mme.  Favoral  shook  her  head. 

"  Then,"  said  she,  "  you  will  yield." 

"Never!" 

"  Then  there  must  be  some  reason  you  do  not  tell  me." 

"  None,  except  that  L  do  not  wish  to  leave  you.  Have 
you  ever  thought  what  would  be  your  existence  if  I  were 
no  longer  here?  Have  you  ever  asked  yourself  what 
would  become  of  you,  between  my  father,  whose  despot- 
ism will  grow  heavier  with  age,  and  my  brother  ?  " 

Always  prompt  to  defend  her  son, — 

"  Maxence  is  not  bad,"  she  interrupted :  "  he  will 
know  how  to  compensate  me  for  the  sorrows  he  has  in- 
flicted upon  me." 

The  young  girl  made  a  gesture  of  doubt, — 

"  I  wish  it,  dear  mother,"  said  she,  "  with  all  my 
heart;  but  I  dare  not  hope  for  it.  His  repentance  to- 
night was  great  and  sincere ;  but  will  he  remember  it  to- 
morrow ?  Besides,  don't  you  know  that  father  has  fully 
resolved  to  separate  himself  from  Maxence?  Think  of 
yourself  alone  here  with  father." 

Mme.  Favoral  shuddered  at  the  mere  idea. 

"  I  would  not  suffer  very  long,"  she  murmured. 

Mile.  Gilberte  kissed  her. 

"  It  is  because  I  wish  you  to  live  to  be  happy  that  I 
refuse  to  marry,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Must  you  not  have 
your  share  of  happiness  in  this  world  ?  Let  me  manage. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     103 

Who  knows  what  compensations  the  future  may  have  in 
store  for  you?  Besides,  this  person  whom  father  has 
selected  for  me  does  not  suit  me.  A  stock-jobber,  who 
would  think  of  nothing  but  money,  who  would  examine 
my  house-accounts  as  papa  does  yours,  or  else  who  would 
load  me  with  cashmeres  and  diamonds,  like  Mme.  de 
Thaller,  to  make  of  me  a  sign  for  his  shop  ?  No,  no !  I 
want  no  such  man.  So,  mother  dear,  be  brave,  take 
sides  boldly  with  your  daughter,  and  we  shall  soon  be 
rid  of  this  would-be  husband." 

"  Your  father  will  bring  him  to  you :  he  said  he 
would." 

"  Well,  he  is  a  man  of  courage,  if  he  returns  three 
times." 

At  this  moment  the  parlor-door  opened  suddenly. 

"  What  are  you  plotting  here  again  ?  "  cried  the  irri- 
tated voice  of  the  master.  "  And  you,  Mme.  Favoral, 
why  don't  you  go  to  bed  ?  " 

The  poor  slave  obeyed,  without  saying  a  word.  And, 
whilst  making  her  way  to  her  room, — 

"  There  is  trouble  ahead,"  thought  Mile.  Gilberte. 
"  But  bash !  If  I  do  have  to  suffer  some,  it  won't  be 
great  harm,  after  all.  Surely  Marius  does  not  com- 
plain, though  he  gives  up  for  me  his  dearest  hopes,  be- 
comes the  salaried  employe  of  M.  Marcolet,  and  thinks 
of  nothing  but  making  money, — he  so  proud  and  so  dis- 
interested ! " 

Mile.  Gilberte's  anticipations  were  but  too  soon  real- 
ized. When  M.  Favoral  made  his  appearance  the  next 
morning,  he  had  the  sombre  brow  and  contracted  lips 
of  a  man  who  has  spent  the  night  ruminating  a  plan 
from  which  he  does  not  mean  to  swerve. 

Instead  of  going  to  his  office,  as  usual,  without  saying 
a  word  to  any  one,  he  called  his  wife  and  children  to  the 


104  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

parlor ;  and,  after  having  carefully  bolted  all  the  doors, 
he  turned  to  Maxence. 

"  I  want  you,"  he  commenced,  "  to  give  me  a  list  of 
your  creditors.  See  that  you  forget  none ;  and  let  it  be 
ready  as  soon  as  possible." 

But  Maxence  was  no  longer  the  same  man.  After  the 
terrible  and  well-deserved  reproaches  of  his  sister,  a 
salutary  revolution  had  taken  place  in  him.  During  the 
preceding  night,  he  had  reflected  over  his  conduct  for 
the  past  four  years ;  and  he  had  been  dismayed  and  ter- 
rified. His  impression  was  like  that  of  the  drunkard, 
who,  having  become  sober,  remembers  the  ridiculous  or 
degrading  acts  which  he  has  committed  under  the  in- 
fluence of  alcohol,  and,  confused  and  humiliated,  swears 
never  more  to  drink. 

Thus  Maxence  had  sworn  to  himself  to  change  his 
mode  of  life,  promising  that  it  would  be  no  drunkard's 
oath,  either.  And  his  attitude  and  his  looks  showed  the 
pride  of  great  resolutions. 

Instead  of  lowering  his  eyes  before  the  irritated  glance 
of  M.  Favoral,  and  stammering  excuses  and  vague 
promises, — 

"  It  is  useless,  father,"  he  replied,  "  to  give  you  the  list 
you  ask  for.  I  am  old  enough  to  bear  the  responsibility 
of  my  acts.  I  shall  repair  my  follies :  what  I  owe,  I  shall 
pay.  This  very  day  I  shall  see  my  creditors,  and  make 
arrangements  with  them." 

"  Very  well,  Maxence/'  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral,  de- 
lighted. 

But  there  was  no  pacifying  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit. 

"  Those  are  fine-sounding  words,"  he  said  with  a 
sneer ;  "  but  I  doubt  if  the  tailors  and  the  shirt-makers 
will  take  them  in  payment.  That's  why  I  want  that  list." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  105 

"  Still  "— 

"  It's  I  who  shall  pay.  I  do  not  mean  to  have  an- 
other such  scene  as  that  of  yesterday  in  my  office.  It 
must  not  be  said  that  my  son  is  a  sharper  and  a  cheat 
at  the  very  moment  when  I  find  for  my  daughter  a  most 
unhoped-for  match." 

And,  turning  to  Mile.  Gilberte, — 

"  For  I  suppose  you  have  got  over  your  foolish 
ideas,"  he  uttered. 

The  young  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  My  ideas  are  the  same  as  they  were  last  night." 

"Ah,  ah!" 

"  And  so,  father,  I  beg  of  you,  do  not  insist.  Why 
wrangle  and  quarrel  ?  You  must  know  me  well  enough 
to  know,  that,  whatever  may  happen,  I  shall  never 
yield." 

Indeed,  M.  Favoral  was  well  aware  of  his  daughter's 
firmness ;  for  he  had  already  been  compelled  on  several 
occasions,  as  he  expressed  it  himself,  "  to  strike  his  flag  " 
before  her.  But  he  could  not  believe  that  she  would 
resist  when  he  took  certain  means  of  enforcing  his 
will. 

"  I  have  pledged  my  word,"  he  said. 

"  But  I  have  not  pledged  mine,  father." 

He  was  becoming  excited:  his  cheeks  were  flushed; 
and  his  little  eyes  sparkled. 

"  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you,"  he  resumed,  doing 
at  least  to  his  daughter  the  honor  of  controlling  his  an- 
ger,— "  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  I  would  derive 
from  this  marriage  immense,  positive,  and  immediate  ad- 
vantages ?  " 

"  Oh ! ''  she  interrupted  with  a  look  of  disgust,  "  oh, 
for  mercy's  sake !  " 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  that  I  have  a  powerful 


io6     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

interest  in  it;  that  it  is  indispensable  to  the  success  of 
vast  combinations  ?  " 

Mile.  Gilberte  looked  straight  at  him. 

"  I  would  answer  you,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  it  does 
not  suit  me  to  be  made  use  of  as  an  earnest  to  your  com- 
binations. Ah!  it's  an  operation,  is  it?  an  enterprise,  a 
big  speculation  ?  and  you  throw  in  your  daughter  in  the 
bargain  as  a  bonus.  Well,  no !  You  can  tell  your  part- 
ner that  the  thing  has  fallen  through." 

M.  Favoral's  anger  was  growing  with  each  word. 

"  I'll  see  if  I  can't  make  you  yield,"  he  said. 

"  You  may  crush  me,  perhaps.  Make  me  yield, 
never !  " 

"  Well,  we  shall  see.  You  will  see — Maxence  and  you 
— whether  there  are  no  means  by  which  a  father  can 
compel  his  rebellious  children  to  submit  to  his  au- 
thority." 

And,  feeling  that  he  was  no  longer  master  of  himself, 
he  left,  swearing  loud  enough  to  shake  the  plaster  from 
the  stair-walls. 

Maxence  shook  with  indignation. 

"  Never,"  he  uttered,  "  never  until  now,  had  I  under- 
stood the  infamy  of  my  conduct.  With  a  father  such  as 
ours,  Gilberte,  I  should  be  your  protector.  And  now  I 
am  debarred  even  of  the  right  to  interfere.  But  never 
mind,  I  have  the  will ;  and  all  will  soon  be  repaired." 

Left  alone,  a  few  moments  after,  Mile.  Gilberte  was 
congratulating  herself  upon  her  firmness. 

"  I  am  sure,"  she  thought,  "  Marius  would  approve, 
if  he  knew." 

She  had  not  long  to  wait  for  her  reward.  The  bell 
rang:  it  was  her  old  professor,  the  Signor  Gismondo 
Pulei,  who  came  to  give  her  his  daily  lesson. 

The  liveliest  joy  beamed  upon  his  face,  more  shriv- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  107 

elled  than  an  apple  at  Easter ;  and  the  most  magnificent 
anticipations  sparkled  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  knew  it,  signora !  "  he  exclaimed  from  the  thresh- 
old :  "  I  knew  that  angels  bring  good  luck.  As  every 
thing  succeeds  to  you,  so  must  every  thing  succeed  to 
those  who  come  near  you." 

She  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  appropriateness  of 
the  compliment. 

"  Something  fortunate  has  happened  to  you,  dear 
master  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  That  is  to  say,  I  am  on  the  high-road  to  fortune  and 
glory,"  he  replied.  "  My  fame  is  extending ;  pupils  dis- 
pute the  privilege  of  my  lesson." 

Mile.  Gilberte  knew  too  well  the  thoroughly  Italian 
exaggeration  of  the  worthy  maestro  to  be  surprised. 

"  This  morning,"  he  went  on,  "  visited  by  inspira- 
tion, I  had  risen  early,  and  I  was  working  with  marvel- 
lous facility,  when  there  was  a  knock  at  my  door.  I 
do  not  remember  such  an  occurrence  since  the  blessed 
day  when  your  worthy  father  called  for  me.  Surprised, 
I  nevertheless  said,  '  Come  in ; '  when  there  appeared  a 
tall  and  robust  young  man,  proud  and  intelligent-look- 
ing." 

The  young  girl  started. 

"  Marius !  "  cried  a  voice  within  her." 

"  This  young  man,"  continued  the  old  Italian,  "  had 
heard  me  spoken  of,  and  came  to  apply  for  lessons.  I 
questioned  him;  and  from  the  first  words  I  discovered 
that  his  education  had  been  frightfully  neglected,  that  he 
was  ignorant  of  the  most  vulgar  notions  of  the  divine 
art,  and  that  he  scarcely  knew  the  difference  between  a 
sharp  and  a  quaver.  It  was  really  the  A,  B,  C,  which  he 
wished  me  to  teach  him.  Laborious  task,  ungrateful  la- 
bor !  But  he  manifested  so  much  shame  at  his  ignorance, 


io8  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  so  much  desire  to  be  instructed,  that  I  felt  moved  in 
his  favor.  Then  his  countenance  was  most  winning,  his 
voice  of  a  superior  tone ;  and  finally  he  offered  me  sixty 
francs  a  month.  In  short,  he  is  now  my  pupil." 

As  well  as  she  could,  Mile.  Gilberte  was  hiding  her 
blushes  behind  a  music-book. 

"  We  remained  over  two  hours  talking,"  said  the  good 
and  simple  maestro,  "  and  I  believe  that  he  has  excellent 
dispositions.  Unfortunately,  he  can  only  take  two  les- 
sons a  week.  Although  a  nobleman,  he  works;  and, 
when  he  took  off  his  glove  to  hand  me  a  month  in  ad- 
vance, I  noticed  that  one  of  his  hands  was  blackened,  as 
if  burnt  by  some  acid.  But  never  mind,  signora,  sixty 
francs,  together  with  what  your  father  gives  me,  it's  a 
fortune.  The  end  of  my  career  will  be  spared  the  pri- 
vations of  its  beginning.  This  young  man  will  help 
making  me  known.  The  morning  has  been  dark;  but 
the  sunset  will  be  glorious." 

The  young  girl  could  no  longer  have  any  doubts :  M. 
de  Tregars  had  found  the  means  of  hearing  from  her, 
and  letting  her  hear  from  him. 

The  impression  she  felt  contributed  no  little  to  give 
her  the  patience  to  endure  the  obstinate  persecution  of 
her  father,  who,  twice  a  day,  never  failed  to  repeat  to 
her, — 

"  Get  ready  to  properly  receive  my  protege  on  Satur- 
day. I  have  not  invited  him  to  dinner:  he  will  only 
spend  the  evening  with  us." 

And  he  mistook  for  a  disposition  to  yield  the  cold 
tone  in  which  she  answered, — 

"  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  this  introduction  is  wholly 
unnecessary." 

Thus,  the  famous  day  having  come,  he  told  his  usual 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY         109 

Saturday  guests,  M.  and  Mme.  Desclavettes,  M.  Chape- 
lain,  and  old  man  Desormeaux, — 

"  Eh,  eh !  I  guess  you  are  going  to  see  a  future  son-in- 
law!" 

At  nine  o'clock,  just  as  they  had  passed  into  the  par- 
lor, the  sound  of  carriage-wheels  startled  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles. 

"  There  he  is !  "  exclaimed  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit. 

And,  throwing  open  a  window, — 

"  Come,  Gilberte,"  he  added,  "  come  and  see  his  car- 
riage and  horses." 

She  never  stirred ;  but  M.  Desclavettes  and  M.  Chape- 
lain  ran.  It  was  night,  unfortunately ;  and  of  the  whole 
equipage  nothing  was  visible  but  the  two  lanterns  that 
shone  like  stars.  Almost  at  the  same  time  the  parlor- 
door  flew  open ;  and\  the  servant,  who  had  been  properly 
trained  in  advance,  announced, — 

"  Monsieur  Costeclar." 

Leaning  toward  Mme.  Favoral,  who  was  seated  by 
her  side  on  the  sofa, — 

"  A  nice-looking  man,  isn't  he  ?  a  really  nice-looking 
man,"  whispered  Mme.  Desclavettes. 

And  indeed  he  really  thought  so  himself.  Gesture, 
attitude,  smile,  every  thing  in  M.  Costeclar,  betrayed  the 
satisfaction  of  self,  and  the  assurance  of  a  man  accus- 
tomed to  success.  His  head,  which  was  very  small,  had 
but  little  hair  left ;  but  it  was  artistically  drawn  towards 
the  temples,  parted  in  the  middle,  and  cut  short  around 
the  forehead.  His  leaden  complexion,  his  pale  lips,  and 
his  dull  eye,  did  not  certainly  betray  a  very  rich  blood ; 
but  he  had  a  great  long  nose,  sharp  and  curved  like  a 
sickle;  and  his  beard,  of  undecided  color,  trimmed  in 


no  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  Victor  Emmanuel  style,  did  the  greatest  honor  to 
the  barber  who  cultivated  it.  Even  when  seen  for  the 
first  time,  one  might  fancy  that  he  recognized  him,  so 
exactly  was  he  like  three  or  four  hundred  others  who 
are  seen  daily  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Cafe  Riche, 
who  are  met  everywhere  where  people  run  who  pretend 
to  amuse  themselves, — at  the  bourse  or  in  the  bois;  at 
the  first  representations,  where  they  are  just  enough  hid- 
den to  be  perfectly  well  seen  at  the  back  of  boxes  filled 
with  young  ladies  with  astonishing  chignons;  at  the 
races ;  in  carriages,  where  they  drink  champagne  to  the 
health  of  the  winner. 

He  had  on  this  occasion  hoisted  his  best  looks,  and 
the  full  dress  de  rigueur, — dress-coat  with  wide  sleeves, 
shirt  cut  low  in  the  neck,  and  open  vest,  fastened  below 
the  waist  by  a  single  button. 

"  Quite  the  man  of  the  world,"  again  remarked  Mme. 
Desclavettes. 

M.  Favoral  rushed  toward  him ;  and  the  latter,  hasten- 
ing, met  him  half  way,  and,  taking  both  his  hands  into 
his, — 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  dear  friend,"  he  commenced,  "  how 
deeply  I  feel  the  honor  you  do  me  in  receiving  me  in  the 
midst  of  your  charming  family  and  your  respectable 
friends." 

And  he  bowed  all  around  during  this  speech,  which 
he  delivered  in  the  condescending  tone  of  a  lord  visiting 
his  inferiors. 

"  Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  wife,"  interrupted  the 
cashier.  And,  leading  him  towards  Mme.  Favoral, — 

"  Monsieur  Costeclar,  my  dear,"  said  he, — "  the 
friend  of  whom  we  have  spoken  so  often." 

M.  Costeclar  bowed,  rounding  his  shoulders,  bending 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  in 

his  lean  form  in  a  half-circle,  and  letting  his  arms  hang 
forward. 

"  I  am  too  much  the  friend  of  our  dear  Favoral, 
madame,"  he  uttered,  "  not  to  have  heard  of  you  long 
since,  nor  to  know  your  merits,  and  the  fact  that  he  owes 
to  you  that  peaceful  happiness  which  he  enjoys,  and 
which  we  all  envy  him." 

Standing  by  the  mantel-piece,  the  usual  Saturday- 
evening  guests  followed  with  the  liveliest  interest  the 
evolutions  of  the  pretender.  Two  of  them,  M.  Chape- 
lain  and  old  Desormeaux,  were  perfectly  able  to  appreci- 
ate him  at  his  just  value;  but,  in  affirming  that  he  made 
half  a  million  a  year,  M.  Favoral  had,  as  it  were,  thrown 
over  his  shoulders  that  famous  ducal  cloak  which  con- 
cealed all  deformities. 

Without  waiting  for  his  wife's  answer,  M.  Favoral 
brought  his  protege  in  front  of  Mile.  Gilberte. 

"Dear  daughter/'said  he,  "Monsieur  Costeclar,  the 
friend  of  whom  I  have  spoken." 

M.  Costeclar  bowed  still  lower,  and  rounded  off  his 
shoulders  again ;  but  the  young  lady  looked  at  him  from 
head  to  foot  with  such  a  freezing  glance,  that  his  tongue 
remained  as  if  paralyzed  in  his  mouth,  and  he  could  only 
stammer  out, — 

"  Mademoiselle !  the  honor,  the  humblest  of  your  ad- 
mirers.'' 

Fortunately  Maxence  was  standing  three  steps  off: 
he  fell  back  in  good  order  upon  him,  and  seizing  his 
hand,,  which  he  shook  vigorously, — 

"  I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  that  we  shall  soon  be  quite  inti- 
mate friends.  Your  excellent  father,  whose  special  con- 
cern you  are,  has  often  spoken  to  me  of  you.  Events, 
so  he  has  confided  to  me,  have  not  hitherto  responded  to 


ii2  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

your  expectations.  At  your  age,  this  is  not  a  very  grave 
matter.  People,  now-a-days,  do  not  always  find  at  the 
first  attempt  the  road  that  leads  to  fortune.  You  will  find 
yours.  From  this  time  forth  I  place  at  your  command 
my  influence  and  my  experience;  and,  if  you  will  con- 
sent to  take  me  for  your  guide  " — 

Maxence  had  withdrawn  his  hand. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  he  answered 
coldly ;  "  but  I  am  content  with  my  lot,  and  I  believe 
myself  old  enough  to  walk  alone." 

Almost  any  one  would  have  lost  countenance.  But  M. 
Costeclar  was  so  little  put  out,  that  it  seemed  as  though 
he  had  expected  just  such  a  reception.  He  turned  upon 
his  heels,  and  advanced  towards  M.  Favoral's  friends 
with  a  smile  so  engaging  as  to  make  it  evident  that  he 
was  anxious  to  conquer  their  suffrages. 

This  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  June, 
1870.  No  one  as  yet  could  foresee  the  frightful  disasters 
which  were  to  mark  the  end  of  that  fatal  year.  And  yet 
there  was  everywhere  in  France  that  indefinable  anxiety 
which  precedes  great  social  convulsions.  The  plebisci- 
tum  had  not  succeeded  in  restoring  confidence.  Every 
day  the  most  alarming  rumors  were  put  in  circulation ; 
and  it  was  with  a  sort  of  passion  that  people  went  in 
quest  of  news. 

Now,  M.  Costeclar  was  a  wonderfully  well-posted 
man.  He  had,  doubtless,  on  his  way,  stopped  on  the 
Boulevard  des  Italiens,  that  blessed  ground  where 
nightly  the  street-brokers  labor  for  the  financial  pros- 
perity of  the  country.  He  had  gone  through  the  Passage 
de  FOpera,  which  is,  as  is  well  known,  the  best  market 
for  the  most  correct  and  the  most  reliable  news.  There- 
fore he  might  safely  be  believed. 

Placing  his  back  to  the  chimney,  he  had  taken  the  lead 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  113 

in  the  conversation;  and  he  was  talking,  talking,  talk- 
ing. Being  a  "  bull,"  he  took  a  favorable  view  of  every 
thing.  He  believed  in  the  eternity  of  the  second  empire. 
He  sang  the  praise  of  the  new  cabinet :  he  was  ready  to 
pour  out  his  blood  for  £mile  Ollivier.  True,  some  people 
complained  that  business  was  dull  and  slow;  but  those 
people,  he  thought,  were  merely  "  bears."  Business  had 
never  been  so  brilliant.  At  no  time  had  prosperity  been 
greater.  Capital  was  abundant.  The  institutions  of 
credit  were  flourishing.  Securities  were  rising.  Every- 
body's pockets  were  full  to  bursting.  And  the  others 
listened  in  astonishment  to  this  inexhaustible  prattle, 
this  "  gab,"  more  filled  with  gold  spangles  than  Dantzig 
cordial,  with  which  the  commercial  travellers  of  the 
bourse  catch  their  customers. 

Suddenly, — 

"  But  you  must  excuse  me,"  he  said,  rushing  towards 
the  other  end  of  the  parlor. 

Mme.  Favoral  had  just  left  the  room  to  order  tea  to 
be  brought  in ;  and,  the  seat  by  Mile.  Gilberte  being  va- 
cant, M.  Costeclar  occupied  it  promptly. 

"  He  understands  his  business,"  growled  M.  Desor- 
meaux. 

"  Surely,"  said  M.  Desclavettes,  "  If  I  had  some 
funds  to  dispose  of  just  now." 

"  I  would  be  most  happy  to  have  him  for  my  son-in- 
law,"  declared  M.  Favoral. 

He  was  doing  his  best.  Somewhat  intimidated  by 
Mile.  Gilberte's  first  look,  he  had  now  fully  recovered 
his  wits. 

He  commenced  by  sketching  his  own  portrait. 

He  had  just  turned  thirty,  and  had  experienced  the 
strong  and  the  weak  side  of  life.  He  had  had  "  suc- 
cesses," but  had  tired  of  them.  Having  gauged  the  emp- 


ii4  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

tiness  of  what  is  called  pleasure,  he  only  wished  now  to 
find  a  partner  for  life,  whose  graces  and  virtues  would 
secure  his  domestic  happiness. 

He  could  not  help  noticing  the  absent  look  of  the 
young  girl ;  but  he  had,  thought  he,  other  means  of  com- 
pelling her  attention.  And  he  went  on,  saying  that  he 
felt  himself  cast  of  the  metal  of  which  model  husbands 
are  made.  His  plans  were  all  made  in  advance.  His 
wife  would  be  free  to  do  as  she  pleased.  She  would  have 
her  own  carriage  and  horses,  her  box  at  the  Italiens  and 
at  the  Opera,  and  an  open  account  at  Worth's  and  Van 
Klopen's.  As  to  diamonds,  he  would  take  care  of  that. 
He  meant  that  his  wife's  display  of  wealth  should  be 
noticed,  and  even  spoken  of  in  the  newspapers. 

Was  this  the  terms  of  a  bargain  that  he  was  offer- 
ing? 

If  so,  it  was  so  coarsely,  that  Mile.  Gilberte,  ignorant 
of  life  as  she  was,  wondered  in  what  world  it  might  be 
that  he  had  met  with  so  many  "  successes." 

And,  somewhat  indignantly, — 

"  Unfortunately,"  she  said,  "  the  bourse  is  perfidious ; 
and  the  man  who  drives  his  own  carriage  to-day,  to- 
morrow may  have  no  shoes  to  wear." 

M.  Costeclar  nodded  with  a  smile. 

"  Exactly  so,"  said  he.  "  A  marriage  protects  one 
against  such  reverses." 

"  Ah !  " 

"  Every  man  in  active  business,  when  he  marries,  set- 
tles upon  his  wife  a  reasonable  fortune.  I  expect  to  set- 
tle six  hundred  thousand  francs  upon  mine." 

"  So  that,  if  you  were  to  meet  with  an — accident  ?  " 

"  We  should  enjoy  our  thirty  thousand  a  year  under 
the  very  nose  of  the  creditors." 

Blushing  with  shame,  Mile.  Gilberte  rose. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  115 

"  But  then,"  said  she,  "  it  isn't  a  wife  that  you  are 
looking  for :  it  is  an  accomplice." 

He  was  spared  the  embarrassment  of  an  answer,  by 
the  servant,  who  came  in,  bringing  in  tea.  He  accepted 
a  cup;  and  after  two  or  three  anecdotes,  judging  that 
he  had  done  enough  for  a  first  visit,  he  withdrew,  and  a 
moment  later  they  heard  his  carriage  driving  off  at  full 
gallop. 


XVI. 

IT  was  not  without  mature  thought  that  M.  Costeclar 
had  determined  to  withdraw,  despite  M.  Favoral's  press- 
ing overtures.  However  infatuated  he  might  be  with 
his  own  merits,  he  had  been  compelled  to  surrender  to 
evidence,  and  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  not  exactly 
succeeded  with  Mile.  Gilberte.  But  he  also  knew  that 
he  had  the  head  of  the  house  on  his  side;  and  he  flat- 
tered himself  that  he  had  produced  an  excellent  impres- 
sion upon  the  guests  of  the  house. 

"  Therefore,"  had  he  said  to  himself,  "  if  I  leave  first, 
they  will  sing  my  praise,  lecture  the  young  person,  and 
make  her  listen  to  reason." 

He  was  not  far  from  being  right.  Mme.  Desclavettes 
had  been  completely  subjugated  by  the  grand  manners 
of  this  pretender;  and  M.  Desclavettes  did  not  hesitate 
to  affirm  that  he  had  rarely  met  any  one  who  pleased  him 
more. 

The  others,  M.  Chapelain  and  old  Desormeaux,  did 
not,  doubtless,  share  this  optimism ;  but  M.  Costeclar's 
annual  half-million  obscured  singularly  their  clear-sight- 
edness. 

They  thought,  perhaps,  they  had  discovered  in  him 


n6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

some  alarming  features;  but  they  had  full  and  entire 
confidence  in  their  friend  Favoral's  prudent  sagacity. 

The  particular  and  methodic  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  was  not  apt  to  be  enthusiastic ;  and,  if  he  opened 
the  doors  of  his  house  to  a  young  man,  if  he  was  so 
anxious  to  have  him  for  his  son-in-law,  he  must  evi- 
dently have  taken  ample  information. 

Finally  there  are  certain  family  matters  from  which 
sensible  people  keep  away  as  they  would  from  the 
plague ;  and,  on  the  question  of  marriage  especially,  he  is 
a  bold  man  who  would  take  side  for  or  against. 

Thus  Mme.  Desclavettes  was  the  only  one  to  raise  her 
voice.  Taking  Mile.  Gilberte's  hands  within  hers, — 

"  Let  me  scold  you,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  for  having 
received  thus  a  poor  young  man  who  was  only  trying  to 
please  you/' 

Excepting  her  mother,  too  weak  to  take  her  defence, 
and  her  brother,  who  was  debarred  from  interfering,  the 
young  girl  understood  readily,  that,  in  that  parlor,  every 
one,  overtly  or  tacitly,  was  against  her.  The  idea  came 
to  her  mind  to  repeat  there  boldly  what  she  had  already 
told  her  father, — that  she  was  resolved  not  to  marry, 
and  that  she  would  not  marry,  not  being  one  of  those 
weak  girls,  without  energy,  whom  they  dress  in  white, 
and  drag  to  church  against  their  will. 

Such  a  bold  declaration  would  be  in  keeping  with  'her 
character.  But  she  feared  a  terrible,  and  perhaps  degrad- 
ing scene.  The  most  intimate  friends  of  the  family  were 
ignorant  of  its  most  painful  sores.  In  presence  of  his 
friends,  M.  Favoral  dissembled,  speaking  in  a  mild  voice, 
and  assuming  a  kindly  smile.  Should  she  suddenly  re- 
veal the  truth? 

"  It  is  childish  of  you  to  run  the  risk  of  discouraging 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  117 

a  clever  fellow  who  makes  half  a  million  a  year,"  con- 
tinued the  wife  of  the  old  bronze-merchant,  to  whom 
such  conduct  seemed  an  abominable  crime  of  lese-money. 

Mile.  Gilberte  had  withdrawn  her  hands. 

"  You  did  not  hear  what  he  said,  madame." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon :  I  was  quite  near,  and  involunta- 
rily "— 

"  You  have  heard  his — propositions  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  He  was  promising  you  a  carriage,  a  box 
at  the  opera,  diamonds,  freedom.  Isn't  that  the  dream  of 
all  young  ladies  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  mine,  madame !  " 

"  Dear  me !  What  better  can  you  wish  ?  You  must 
not  expect  more  from  a  husband  than  he  can  possibly 
give." 

"  That  is  not  what  I  shall  expect  of  him." 

In  a  tone  of  paternal  indulgence,  which  his  looks  be- 
lied,— 

"  She  is  mad/'  suggested  M.  Favoral. 

Tears  of  indignation  filled  Mile.  Gilberte's  eyes. 

"  Mme.  Desclavettes,"  she  exclaimed,  "  forgets  some- 
thing. She  forgets  that  this  gentleman  dared  to  tell  me 
that  he  proposed  to  settle  upon  the  woman  he  marries  a 
large  fortune,  of  which  his  creditors  would  thus  be 
cheated  in  case  of  his  failure  in  business." 

She  thought,  in  her  simplicity,  that  a  cry  of  indigna- 
tion would  rise  at  these  words.  Instead  of  which, — 

"  Well,  isn't  it  perfectly  natural  ?  "  said  M.  Descla- 
vettes. 

"  It  seems  to  me  more  than  natural,"  insisted  Mme. 
Desclavettes,  "  that  a  man  should  be  anxious  to  preserve 
from  ruin  his  wife  and  children." 

"  Of  course,"  put  in  M.  Favoral. 


ii8  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Stepping  resolutely  toward  her  father, — 

"  Have  you,  then,  taken  such  precautions  yourself?  " 
demanded  Mile.  Gilberte. 

"  No,"  answered  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit. 

And,  after  a  moment  of  hesitation, — 

"  But  I  am  running  no  risks,"  he  added.  "  In  busi- 
ness, and  when  a  man  may  be  ruined  by  a  mere  rise  or 
fall  in  stocks,  he  would  be  insane  indeed  who  did  not 
secure  bread  for  his  family,  and,  above  all,  means  for 
himself,  wherewith  to  commence  again.  The  Baron  de 
Thaller  did  not  act  otherwise ;  and,  should  he  meet  with 
a  disaster,  Mme.  de  Thaller  would  still  have  a  handsome 
fortune." 

M.  Desormeaux  was,  perhaps,  the  only  one  not  to  ad- 
mit freely  that  theory,  and  not  to  accept  that  ever-deci- 
sive reason,  "  Others  do  it." 

But  he  was  a  philosopher,  and  thought  it  silly  not  to 
be  of  his  time.  He  therefore  contented  himself  with 
saying,— 

"  Hum !  M.  de  Thaller's  creditors  might  not  think 
that  mode  of  proceeding  entirely  regular." 

"  Then  they  might  sue,"  said  M.  Chapelain,  laughing. 
"  People  can  always  sue ;  only  when  the  papers  are  well 
drawn '' — 

Mile.  Gilberte  stood  dismayed.  She  thought  of  Marius 
de  Tregars  giving  up  his  mother's  fortune  to  pay  his 
father's  debts. 

"  What  would  he  say,"  thought  she,  "  should  he  hear 
such  opinions ! " 

The  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  resumed, — 

"  Surely  I  blame  every  species  of  fraud.  But  I  pre- 
tend, and  I  maintain,  that  a  man  who  has  worked  twenty 
years  to  give  a  handsome  dowry  to  his  daughter  has  the 
right  to  demand  of  his  son-in-law  certain  conservative 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY         u9 

measures  to  guarantee  the  money,  which,  after  all,  is  his 
own,  and  which  is  to  benefit  no  one  but  his  own  family." 

This  declaration  closed  the  evening.  It  was  getting 
late.  The  Saturday  guests  put  on  their  overcoats ;  and, 
as  they  were  walking  home, — 

"  Can  you  understand  that  little  Gilberte  ?  "  said  Mme. 
Desclavettes.  "  I'd  like  to  see  a  daughter  of  mine  have 
such  fancies !  But  her  poor  mother  is  so  weak !  " 

"  Yes ;  but  friend  Favoral  is  firm  enough  for  both," 
interrupted  M.  Desormeaux ;  "  and  it  is  more  than 
probable  that  at  this  very  moment  he  is  correcting  his 
daughter  of  the  sin  of  sloth." 

Well,  not  at  all.  Extremely  angry  as  M.  Favoral 
must  have  been,  neither  that  evening,  nor  the  next  day, 
did  he  make  the  remotest  allusion  to  what  had  taken 
place. 

The  following  Monday  only,  before  leaving  for  his 
office,  casting  upon  his  wife  and  daughter  one  of  his 
ugliest  looks, — 

"  M.  Costeclar  owes  us  a  visit,"  said  he ;  "  and  it  is 
possible  that  he  may  call  in  my  absence.  I  wish  him  to 
be  admitted ;  and  I  forbid  you  to  go  out,  so  that  you  can 
have  no  pretext  to  refuse  him  the  door.  I  presume  there 
will  not  be  found  in  my  house  any  one  bold  enough  to 
ill  receive  a  man  whom  I  like,  and  whom  I  have  selected 
for  my  son-in  law." 

But  was  it  probable,  was  it  even  possible,  that  M. 
Costeclar  could  venture  upon  such  a  step  after  Mile.  Gil- 
berte's  treatment  of  him  on  the  previous  Saturday  even- 
ing? 

"  No,  a  thousand  times  no !  "  affirmed  Maxence  to  his 
mother  and  sister.  "  So  you  may  rest  easy." 

Indeed  they  tried  to  be,  until  that  very  afternoon  the 
sound  of  rapidly-rolling  wheels  attracted  Mme.  Favoral 


120  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  the  window.  A  coupe,  drawn  by  two  gray  horses,  had 
just  stopped  at  the  door. 

"  It  must  be  he,"  she  said  to  her  daughter. 

Mile.  Gilberte  had  turned  slightly  pale. 

"  There  is  no  help  for  it,  mother,"  she  said :  "  You 
must  receive  him." 

"And  you?" 

"  I  shall  remain  in  my  room." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  won't  ask  for  you  ?  " 

"  You  will  answer  that  I  am  unwell.  He  will  under- 
stand." 

"  But  your  father,  unhappy  child,  your  father  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  acknowledge  to  my  father  the  right  of 
disposing  of  my  person  against  my  wishes.  I  detest  that 
man  to  whom  he  wishes  to  marry  me.  Would  you  like 
to  see  me  his  wife,  to  know  me  given  up  to  the  most  in- 
tolerable torture  ?  No,  there  is  no  violence  in  the  world 
that  will  ever  wring  my  consent  from  me.  So,  mother 
dear,  do  what  I  ask  you.  My  father  can  say  what  he 
pleases :  I  take  the  whole  responsibility  upon  myself." 

There  was  no  time  to  argue :  the  bell  rang.  Mile.  Gil- 
berte had  barely  time  to  escape  through  one  of  the  doors 
of  the  parlor,  whilst  M.  Costeclar  was  entering  at  the 
other. 

If  he  did  have  enough  perspicacity  to  guess  what  had 
just  taken  place,  he  did  not  in  any  way  show  it.  He  sat 
down ;  and  it  was  only  after  conversing  for  a  few  mo- 
ments upon  indifferent  subjects,  that  he  asked  how  Mile 
Gilberte  was. 

"  She  is  somewhat — unwell,"  stammered  Mme.  Fa- 
voral. 

He  did  not  appear  surprised ;  only, — 

"  Our  dear  Favoral,"  he  said,  "  will  be  still  more 
pained  than  I  ani  when  he  hears  of  this  mishap." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  121 

Better  than  any  other  mother,  Mme.  Favoral  must 
have  understood  and  approved  Mile.  Gilberte's  invinci- 
ble repugnance.  To  her  also,  when  she  was  young,  her 
father  had  come  one  day,  and  said,  "  I  have  discovered  a 
husband  for  you."  She  had  accepted  him  blindly. 
Bruised  and  wounded  by  daily  outrages,  she  had  sought 
refuge  in  marriage  as  in  a  haven  of  safety. 

And  since,  hardly  a  day  had  elapsed  that  she  had  not 
thought  it  would  have  been  better  for  her  to  have  died 
rather  then  to  have  riveted  to  her  neck  those  fetters  that 
death  alone  can  remove.  She  thought,  therefore,  that 
her  daughter  was  perfectly  right.  And  yet  twenty  years 
of  slavery  had  so  weakened  the  springs  of  her  energy, 
that  under  the  glance  of  Costeclar,  threatening  her  with 
her  husband's  name,  she  felt  embarrassed,  and  could 
scarcely  stammer  some  timid  excuses.  And  she  allowed 
him  to  prolong  his  visit,  and  consequently  her  torment, 
for  over  an  half  an  hour ;  then,  when  he  had  gone, — 

"  He  and  your  father  understand  each  other,"  said  she 
to  her  daughter,  "  that  is  but  too  evident.  What  is  the 
use  of  struggling  ?  " 

A  fugitive  blush  colored  the  pale  cheeks  of  Mile.  Gil- 
berte.  For  the  past  forty-eight  hours  she  had  been  ex- 
hausting herself,  seeking  an  issue  to  an  impossible  situa- 
tion; and  she  had  accustomed  her  mind  to  the  worst 
eventualities. 

"  Do  you  wish  me,  then,  to  desert  the  paternal  roof  ?  '' 
she  exclaimed. 

Mme.  Favoral  almost  dropped  on  the  floor. 

"  You  would  run  away,"  she  stammered,  "  you !  " — 

"  Rather  than  become  that  man's  wife,  yes !  " 

"  And  where  would  you  go,  unfortunate  child  ?  what 
would  you  do?  " 

"  I  can  earn  my  living." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Mme.  Favoral  shook  her  head  sadly.  The  same  sus- 
picions were  reviving  within  her  that  she  had  felt  once 
before. 

"  Gilberte,"  she  said  in  a  beseeching  tone,  "  am  I,  then, 
no  longer  your  best  friend?  and  will  you  not  tell  me 
from  what  sources  you  draw  your  courage  and  your 
resolution  ?  " 

And,  as  her  daughter  said  nothing, — 

"  God  alone  knows  what  may  happen !  "  sighed  the 
poor  woman. 

Nothing  happened,  but  what  could  have  been  easily 
foreseen.  When  M.  Favoral  came  home  to  dinner,  he 
was  whistling  a  perfect  storm  on  the  stairs.  He  abstained 
at  first  from  all  recrimination;  but  towards  the  end  of 
the  meal,  with  the  most  sarcastic  look  he  could  as- 
sume,— 

"  It  seems,"  he  said  to  his  daughter,  "  that  you  were 
unwell  this  afternoon  ?  " 

Bravely,  and  without  flinching,  she  sustained  his  look ; 
and,  in  a  firm  voice, — 

"  I  shall  always  be  indisposed,"  she  replied,  "  when  M. 
Costeclar  calls.  You  hear  me,  don't  you,  father, — al- 
ways !  " 

But  the  cashier  of  the  Credit  Mutual  was  not  one  of 
those  men  whose  wrath  finds  vent  in  mere  sarcasms. 
Rising  suddenly  to  his  feet, — 

"  By  the  holy  heavens !  "  he  screamed  forth,  "  you 
are  wrong  to  trifle  thus  with  my  will ;  for,  all  of  you 
here,  I  shall  crush  you  as  I  do  this  glass." 

And,  with  a  frenzied  gesture,  he  dashed  the  glass  he 
held  in  his  hand  against  the  wall,  where  it  broke  in  a 
thousand  pieces.  Trembling  like  a  leaf,  Mme.  Favoral 
staggered  upon  her  chair. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  123 


XVII. 

"  BETTER  kill  her  at  once,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte  coldly. 
"  She  would  suffer  less." 

It  was  by  a  torrent  of  invective  that  M.  Favoral  re- 
plied. His  rage,  dammed  up  for  the  past  four  days,  find- 
ing at  last  an  outlet,  flowed  in  gross  insults  and  insane 
threats.  He  spoke  of  throwing  out  in  the  street  his  wife 
and  children,  or  starving  them  out,  or  shutting  up  his 
daughter  in  a  house  of  correction ;  until  at  last,  language 
failing  his  fury,  beside  himself,  he  left,  swearing  that  he 
would  bring  M.  Costeclar  home  himself,  and  then  they 
would  see. 

"  Very  well,  we  shall  see,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte. 

Motionless  in  his  place,  and  white  as  a  plaster  cast, 
Maxence  had  witnessed  this  lamentable  scene.  A  gleam 
of  common-sense  had  enabled  him  to  control  his  indigna- 
tion, and  to  remain  silent.  He  had  understood,  that,  at 
the  first  word,  his  father's  fury  would  have  turned 
against  him ;  and  then  what  might  have  happened  ?  The 
most  frightful  dramas  of  the  criminal  courts  have  often 
had  no  other  origin. 

"  No,  this  is  no  longer  bearable !  "  he  exclaimed. 

Even  at  the  time  of  his  greatest  follies,  Maxence  had 
always  had  for  his  sister  a  fraternal  affection.  He  ad- 
mired her  from  the  day  she  had  stood  up  before  him  to 
reproach  him  for  his  misconduct.  He  envied  her  her 
quiet  determination,  her  patient  tenacity,  and  that  calm 
energy  that  never  failed  her.  . 

"  Have  patience,  my  poor  Gilberte,"  he  added :  "  the 
day  is  not  far,  I  hope,  when  I  may  commence  to  repay 
you  all  you  have  done  for  me.  I  have  not  lost  my  time 
since  you  restored  me  my  reason.  I  have  arranged  with 


124  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

my  creditors.  I  have  found  a  situation,  which,  if  not 
brilliant,  is  at  least  sufficiently  lucrative  to  enable  me  be- 
fore long  to  offer  you,  as  well  as  to  our  mother,  a  peace- 
ful retreat." 

"  But  it  is  to-morrow,"  interrupted  Mme.  Favoral, 
"  to-morrow  that  your  father  is  to  bring  M.  Costeclar. 
He  has  said  so,  and  he  will  do  it." 

And  so  he  did.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
M.  Favoral  and  his  protege  arrived  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles, 
in  that  famous  coupe  with  the  two  horses,  which  excited 
the  wonder  of  the  neighbors. 

But  Mile.  Gilberte  had  her  plan  ready.  She  was  on 
the  lookout ;  and,  as  soon  as  she  heard  the  carriage  stop, 
she  ran  to  her  room,  undressed  in  a  twinkling,  and  went 
to  bed. 

When  her  father  came  for  her,  and  saw  her  in  bed,  he 
remained  surprised  and  puzzled  on  the  threshold  of  the 
door. 

"  And  yet  I'll  make  you  come  into  the  parlor ! "  he 
said  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Then  you  must  carry  me  there  as  I  am,"  she  said 
in  a  tone  of  defiance ;  "  for  I  shall  certainly  not  get  up." 

For  the  first  time  since  his  marriage,  M.  Favoral  met 
in  his  own  house  a  more  inflexible  will  than  his  own, 
and  a  more  unyielding  obstinacy.  He  was  baffled.  He 
threatened  his  daughter  with  his  clinched  fists,  but  could 
discover  no  means  of  making  her  obey.  He  was  com- 
pelled to  surrender,  to  yield. 

"  This  will  be  settled  with  the  rest,"  he  growled,  as 
he  went  out. 

"  I  fear  nothing  in  the  world,  father,"  said  the  girl. 

It  was  almost  true,  so  much  did  the  thought  of  Marius 
de  Tregars  inflame  her  courage.  Twice  already  she  had 
heard  from  him  through  the  Signer  Gismondo  Pulei, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  125 

who  never  tired  talking  of  this  new  pupil,  to  whom  he 
had  already  given  two  lessons. 

"  He  is  the  most  gallant  man  in  the  world,"  he  said, 
his  eye  sparkling  with  enthusiasm,  "  and  the  bravest, 
and  the  most  generous,  and  the  best ;  and  no  quality  that 
can  adorn  one  of  God's  creatures  shall  be  wanting  in 
him  when  I  have  taught  him  the  divine  art.  It  is  not 
with  a  little  contemptible  gold  that  he  means  to  reward 
my  zeal.  To  him  I  am  as  a  second  father ;  and  it  is  with 
the  confidence  of  a  son  that  he  explains  to  me  his  labors 
and  his  hopes." 

Thus  Mile.  Gilberte  learned  through  the  old  maestro, 
that  the  newspaper  article  she  had  read  was  almost  ex- 
actly true,  and  that  M.  de  Tregars  and  M.  Marcolet  had 
become  associated  for  the  purpose  of  working,  in  joint 
account,  certain  recent  discoveries,  which  bid  fair  to 
yield  large  profits  in  a  near  future. 

"  And  yet  it  is  for  my  sake  alone  that  he  has  thus 
thrown  himself  into  the  turmoil  of  business,  and  has 
become  as  eager  for  gain  as  that  M.  Marcolet  himself." 

And,  at  the  height  of  her  father's  persecutions,  she 
felt  glad  of  what  she  had  done,  and  of  her  boldness  in 
placing  her  destiny  in  the  hands  of  a  stranger.  The 
memory  of  Marius  had  become  her  refuge,  the  element 
of  all  her  dreams  and  of  all  her  hopes;  in  a  word,  her 
life. 

It  was  of  Marius  she  was  thinking,  when  her  mother, 
surprising  her  gazing  into  vacancy,  would  ask  her, 
"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  And,  at  every  new  vexa- 
tion she  had  to  endure,  her  imagination  decked  him  with 
a  new  quality,  and  she  clung  to  him  with  a  more  desper- 
ate grasp. 

"  How  much  he  would  grieve,"  thought  she,  "  if  he 
knew  of  what  persecution  I  am  the  object !  " 


126  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  very  careful  was  she  not  to  allow  the  Signer  Gis- 
mondo  Pulei  to  suspect  any  thing  of  it,  affecting,  on  the 
contrary,  in  his  presence,  the  most  cheerful  serenity. 

And  yet  she  was  a  prey  to  the  most  cruel  anxiety, 
since  she  observed  a  new  and  most  incredible  transfor- 
mation in  her  father. 

That  man  so  violent  and  so  harsh,  who  flattered  him- 
self never  to  have  been  bent,  who  boasted  never  to  have 
forgotten  or  forgiven  any  thing,  that  domestic  tyrant, 
had  become  quite  a  debonair  personage.  He  had  referred 
to  the  expedient  imagined  by  Mile.  Gilberte  only  to 
laugh  at  it,  saying  that  it  was  a  good  trick,  and  he  de- 
served it ;  for  he  repented  bitterly,  he  protested,  his  past 
brutalities. 

He  owned  that  he  had  at  heart  his  daughter's  mar- 
riage with  M.  Costeclar;  but  he  acknowledged  that  he 
had  made  use  of  the  surest  means  for  making  it  fail. 
He  should,  he  humbly  confessed,  have  expected  every 
thing  of  time  and  circumstances,  of  M.  Costeclar's  excel- 
lent qualities,  and  of  his  beautiful,  darling  daughter's 
good  sense. 

More  than  of  all  his  violence,  Mme.  Favoral  was  ter- 
rified at  this  affected  good  nature. 

"  Dear  me !  "  she  sighed,  "  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

But  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  was  not  prepar- 
ing any  new  surprise  to  his  family.  If  the  means  were 
different,  it  was  still  the  same  object  that  he  was  pur- 
suing with  the  tenacity  of  an  insect.  When  severity  had 
failed,  he  hoped  to  succeed  by  gentleness,  that's  all.  Only 
this  assumption  of  hypocritical  meekness  was  too  new 
to  him  to  deceive  any  one.  At  every  moment  the  mask 
fell  off,  the  claws  showed,  and  his  voice  trembled  with 
ill-suppressed  rage  in  the  midst  of  his  most  honeyed 
phrases. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  127 

Moreover,  he  entertained  the  strangest  illusions. 

Because  for  forty-eight  hours  he  had  acted  the  part  of 
a  good-natured  man,  because  one  Sunday  he  had  taken 
his  wife  and  daughter  out  riding  in  the  Bois  de  Vin- 
cennes,  because  he  had  given  Maxence  a  hundred-franc 
note,  he  imagined  that  it  was  all  over,  that  the  past  was 
obliterated,  forgotten,  and  forgiven. 

And,  drawing  Gilberte  upon  his  knees, — 

"  Well,  daughter,"  he  said,  "  you  see  that  I  don't  im- 
portune you  any  more,  and  I  leave  you  quite  free.  I 
am  more  reasonable  than  you  are." 

But  on  the  other  hand,  and  according  to  an  ex- 
pression which  escaped  him  later,  he  tried  to  turn 
the  enemy. 

He  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to  spread  in  the 
neighborhood  the  rumor  of  Mile.  Gilberte's  marriage 
with  a  financier  of  colossal  wealth, — that  elegant  young 
man  who  came  in  a  coupe  with  two  horses.  Mme.  Fa- 
voral  could  not  enter  a  shop  without  being  covertly  com- 
plimented upon  having  found  such  a  magnificent  estab- 
lishment for  her  daughter. 

Loud,  indeed,  must  have  been  the  gossip;  for  its 
echo  reached  even  the  inattentive  ears  of  the  Signer  Gis- 
mondo  Pulei. 

One  day,  suddenly  interrupting  his  lesson, — 

"  You  are  going  to  be  married,  signora  ?  "  he  in* 
quired. 

Mile.  Gilberte  started. 

What  the  old  Italian  had  heard,  he  would  surely  ere 
long  repeat  to  Marius.  It  was  therefore  urgent  to  un- 
deceive him. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  replied,  "  that  something  has  been 
said  about  a  marriage,  dear  maestro" 

"Ah,  ah!" 


128  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Only  my  father  had  not  consulted  me.  That  mar- 
riage will  never  take  place :  I  swear  it." 

She  expressed  herself  in  a  tone  of  such  ardent  convic- 
tion, that  the  old  gentleman  was  quite  astonished,  little 
dreaming  that  it  was  not  to  him  that  this  energetic  de- 
nial was  addressed. 

"  My  destiny  is  irrevocably  fixed,"  added  Mile.  Gil- 
berte.  "  When  I  marry,  I  will  consult  the  inspirations  of 
my  heart  only." 

In  the  mean  time,  it  was  a  veritable  conspiracy  against 
her.  M.  Favoral  had  succeeded  in  interesting  in  the  suc- 
cess of  his  designs  his  habitual  guests,  not  M.  and  Mme. 
Desclavettes,  who  had  been  seduced  from  the  first,  but 
M.  Chapelain  and  old  Desormeaux  himself.  So  that  they 
all  vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts  to  bring  the 
"  dear  child  "  to  reason,  and  to  enlighten  her  with  their 
counsels. 

"  Father  must  have  a  still  more  considerable  interest 
in  this  alliance  than  he  has  allowed  us  to  think,''  she  re- 
marked to  her  brother.  Maxence  was  also  absolutely 
of  the  same  opinion. 

"  And  then,"  he  added,  "  our  father  must  be  terribly 
rich ;  for,  do  not  deceive  yourself,  it  isn't  solely  for  your 
pretty  blue  eyes  that  this  Costeclar  persists  in  coming 
here  twice  a  week  to  pocket  a  new  mortification.  What 
enormous  dowry  can  he  be  hoping  for?  I  am  going  to 
speak  to  him  myself,  and  try  to  find  out  what  he  is 
after." 

But  Mile.  Gilberte  had  but  slight  confidence  in  her 
brother's  diplomacy. 

"  I  beg  of  you,"  she  said,  "  don't  meddle  with  that 
business ! " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will !  Fear  nothing,  I'll  be  prudent." 

Having  taken  his  resolution,  Maxence  placed  himself 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  129 

on  the  lookout ;  and  the  very  next  day,  as  M.  Costeclar 
was  stepping  out  of  his  carriage  at  the  door,  he  walked 
straight  up  to  him. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you,  sir,"  he  said. 

Self-possessed  as  he  was,  the  brilliant  financier  suc- 
ceeded but  poorly  in  concealing  a  surprise  that  looked 
very  much  like  fright. 

"  I  am  going  in  to  call  on  your  parents,  sir,"  he  re- 
plied ;  "  and  whilst  waiting  for  your  father,  with  whom 
I  have  an  appointment,  I  shall  be  at  your  command." 

"  No,  no !  "  interrupted  Maxence.  "  What  I  have  to 
say  must  be  heard  by  you  alone.  Come  along  this  way, 
and  we  shall  not  be  interrupted." 

And  he  led  M.  Costeclar  away  as  far  as  the  Place 
Royal.  Once  there, — 

"  You  are  very  anxious  to  marry  my  sister,  sir,"  he 
commenced. 

During  their  short  walk  M.  Costeclar  had  recovered 
himself.  He  had  resumed  all  his  impertinent  assurance. 
Looking  at  Maxence  from  head  to  foot  with  any  thing 
but  a  friendly  look, — 

"  It  is  my  dearest  and  my  most  ardent  wish,  sir,"  he 
replied. 

"  Very  well.  But  you  must  have  noticed  the  very 
slight  success,  to  use  no  harsher  word,  of  your  assidui- 
ties." 

"  Alas !  " 

"  And,  perhaps,  you  will  judge,  like  myself,  that  it 
would  be  the  act  of  a  gentleman  to  withdraw  in  presence 
of  such  positive — repugnance  ?  " 

An  ugly  smile  was  wandering  upon  M.  Costeclar's 
pale  lips. 

"  Is  it  at  the  request  of  your  sister,  sir,  that  you  make 
me  this  communication  ?  " 


130  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Are  you  aware  whether  your  sister  has  some  in- 
clination that  may  be  an  obstacle  to  the  realization  of  my 
hopes  ?  " 

"Sir!" 

"  Excuse  me !  What  I  say  has  nothing  to  offend.  It 
might  very  well  be  that  your  sister,  before  I  had  the 
honor  of  being  introduced  to  her,  had  already  fixed  her 
choice." 

He  spoke  so  loud,  that  Maxence  looked  sharply 
around  to  see  whether  there  was  not  some  one  within 
hearing.  He  saw  no  one  but  a  young  man,  who  seemed 
quite  absorbed  reading  a  newspaper. 

"  But,  sir,"  he  resumed,  "  what  would  you  answer,  if 
I,  the  brother  of  the  young  lady  whom  you  wish  to 
marry  against  her  wishes, — I  called  upon  you  to  cease 
your  assiduities  ?  " 

M.  Costeclar  bowed  ceremoniously, — 

"  I  would  answer  you,  sir,"  he  uttered,  "  that  your 
father's  assent  is  sufficient  for  me.  My  suit  has  nothing 
but  is  honorable.  Your  sister  may  not  like  me :  that  is  a 
misfortune;  but  it  is  not  irreparable.  When  she  knows 
me  better,  I  venture  to  hope  that  she  will  overcome  her 
unjust  prejudices.  Therefore  I  shall  persist." 

Maxence  insisted  no  more.  He  was  irritated  at  M. 
Costeclar's  coolness ;  but  it  was  not  his  intention  to  push 
things  further. 

"  There  will  always  be  time,"  he  thought,  "  *o  resort 
to  violent  measures." 

But  when  he  reported  this  conversation  to  his  sister, — 

"  It  is  clear,"  he  said,  "  that,  between  our  father  and 
tnat  man,  there  is  a  communitv  of  interests  which  I  am 
unable  to  discover.  What  business  have  they  together. 
In  what  respect  can  your  marriage  either  help  or  injure 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  131 

them.    I  must  see,  try  and  find  out  exactly  who  is  this 
Costeclar :  the  deuse  take  him !  " 

He  started  out  the  same  day,  and  had  not  far  to 

go- 

M.  Costeclar  was  one  of  those  personalities  which  only 
bloom  in  Paris,  and  are  only  met  in  Paris, — the  same  as 
cab-horses,  and  young  ladies  with  yellow  chignons. 

He  knew  everybody,  and  everybody  knew  him. 

He  was  well  known  at  the  bourse,  in  all  the  principal 
restaurants,  where  he  called  the  waiters  by  their  first 
names,  at  the  box-office  of  the  theatres,  at  all  the  pool- 
rooms, and  at  the  European  Club,  otherwise  called  the 
Nomadic  Club,  of  which  he  was  a  member. 

He  operated  at  the  bourse:  that  was  sure.  He  was 
said  to  own  a  third  interest  in  a  stock-broker's  office.  He 
had  a  good  deal  of  business  with  M.  Jottras,  of  the 
house  of  Jottras  and  Brother,  and  M.  Saint  Pavin,  the 
manager  of  a  very  popular  journal,  "  The  Financial  Pi- 
lot." 

It  was  further  known  that  he  had,  Rue  Vivienne,  a 
magnificent  apartment,  and  that  he  had  successively 
honored  with  his  liberal  protection  Mile.  Sidney  of  the 
Varieties,  and  Mme.  Jenny  Fancy,  a  lady  of  a  certain 
age  already,  but  so  situated  as  to  return  to  her  lovers  in 
notoriety  what  they  gave  her  in  good  money. 

So  much  did  Maxence  learn  without  difficulty.  As 
to  any  more  precise  details,  it  was  impossible  to  obtain 
them.  To  his  pressing  questions  upon  M.  Costeclar's 
antecedents, — 

"  He  is  a  perfectly  honest  man,"  answered  some. 

"  He  is  simply  a  speculator,"  affirmed  others. 

But  all  agreed  that  he  was  a  "  sharp  one,"  who  would 
surely  make  his  fortune,  and  without  passing  through 
the  police-courts,  either. 


132  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  How  can  our  father  and  such  a  man  be  so  inti- 
mately connected  t  "  wondered  Maxence  and  his  sister. 

And  they  were  lost  in  conjectures,  when  suddenly,  at 
an  hour  when  he  never  set  his  foot  in  the  house,  M.  Fa- 
voral  appeared. 

Throwing  a  letter  upon  his  daughter's  lap, — 

"  See  what  I  have  just  received  from  Costeclar,"  he 
said  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "  Read." 

She  read,  "  Allow  me,  dear  friend,  to  release  you 
from  your  engagement.  Owing  to  circumstances  abso- 
lutely beyond  my  control,  I  find  myself  compelled  to  give 
up  the  honor  of  becoming  a  member  of  your  family." 

What  could  have  happened  ? 

Standing  in  the  middle  of  the  parlor,  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  held,  bowed  down  beneath  his  glance, 
his  wife  and  children,  Mme.  Favoral  trembling,  Max- 
ence smarting  in  mute  surprise,  and  Mile.  Gilberte,  who 
needed  all  the  strength  of  her  will  to  control  the  explo- 
sion of  her  immense  joy. 

Every  thing  in  M.  Favoral  betrayed,  nevertheless, 
much  more  the  excitement  of  a  disaster  than  the  rage  of 
a  deception. 

Never  had  his  family  seen  him  thus, — livid,  his  cravat 
undone,  his  hair  wet  with  perspiration,  and  clinging  to 
his  temples. 

"  Will  you  please  explain  this  letter  ?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

And,  as  no  one  answered  him,  he  took  up  that  letter 
again  from  the  table  where  Mile.  Gilberte  had  laid  it, 
and  commenced  reading  it  again,  scanning  each  syllable, 
as  if  in  hopes  of  discovering  in  each  word  some  hidden 
meaning. 

"  What  did  you  say  to  Costeclar  ? "  he  resumed, 
"  what  did  you  do  to  him  to  make  him  take  such  a  de- 
termination ?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  133 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Maxence  and  Mile.  Gilberte. 

The  hope  of  being  at  last  rid  of  that  man  inspired 
Mme.  Favoral  with  something  like  courage. 

"  He  has  doubtless  understood,"  she  meekly  sug- 
gested, "  that  he  could  not  triumph  over  our  daughter's 
repugnance." 

But  her  husband  interrupted  her, — 

"  No,"  he  uttered,  "  Costeclar  is  not  the  man  to 
trouble  himself  about  the  ridiculous  caprices  of  a  little 
girl.  There  is  something  else.  But  what  is  it?  Come,  if 
you  know  it,  any  of  you,  if  you  suspect  it  even,  speak, 
say  it.  You  must  see  that  I  am  in  a  state  of  fearful  anx- 
iety." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  he  thus  allowed  something  to 
appear  of  what  was  passing  within  him,  the  first  time 
that  he  ever  complained. 

"  M.  Costeclar  alone,  father,  can  give  you  the  explana- 
tion you  ask  of  us,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte. 

The  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  shook  his  head. 

"  Do  you  suppose,  then,  that  I  have  not  questioned 
him?  I  found  his  letter  this  morning  at  the  office.  At 
once  I  ran  to  his  apartments,  Rue  Vivienne.  He  had 
just  gone  out;  and  it  is  in  vain  that  I  called  for  him  at 
Jottras',  and  at  the  office  of  '  The  Financial  Pilot.'  I 
found  him  at  last  at  the  bourse,  after  running  three 
hours.  But  I  could  only  get  from  him  evasive  answers 
and  vague  explanations.  Of  course  he  did  not  fail  to 
say,  that,  if  he  does  withdraw,  it  is  because  he  de- 
spairs of  ever  succeeding  in  pleasing  Gilberte.  But  it 
isn't  so :  I  know  it ;  I  am  sure  of  it ;  I  read  it  in 
his  eyes.  Twice  his  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  about 
to  confess  all ;  and  then  he  said  nothing.  And  the  more 
I  insisted,  the  more  he  seemed  ill  at  ease,  embarrassed, 
uneasy,  troubled,  the  more  he  appeared  to  me  like  a  man 


134  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

who  has  been  threatened,  and  dares  not  brave  the 
threat." 

He  directed  upon  his  children  one  of  those  obstinate 
looks  which  search  the  inmost  depths  of  the  conscience. 

"  If  you  have  done  any  thing  to  drive  him  off,"  he 
resumed,  "  confess  it  frankly,  and  I  swear  I  will  not  re- 
proach you." 

"  We  did  not." 

"  You  did  not  threaten  him?  " 

"No!" 

M.  Favoral  seemed  appalled. 

"  Doubtless  you  deceive  me,"  he  said,  "  and  I  hope 
you  do.  Unhappy  children !  you  do  not  know  what  this 
rupture  may  cost  you." 

And,  instead  of  returning  to  his  office,  he  shut  himself 
up  in  that  little  room  which  he  called  his  study,  and  only 
came  out  of  it  at  about  five  o'clock,  holding  under  his 
arm  an  enormous  bundle  of  papers,  and  saying  that  it 
was  useless  to  wait  for  him  for  dinner,  as  he  would  not 
come  home  until  late  in  the  night,  if  he  came  home  at 
all,  being  compelled  to  make  up  for  his  lost  day. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  father,  my  poor  chil- 
dren ? ''  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral.  "  I  have  never  seen 
him  in  such  a  state." 

"  Doubtless,"  replied  .  Maxence,  "  the  rupture  with 
Costeclar  is  going  to  break  up  some  combination." 

But  that  explanation  did  not  satisfy  him  any  more 
than  it  did  his  mother.  He,  too,  felt  a  vague  apprehen- 
sion of  some  impending  misfortune.  But  what?  He 
had  nothing  upon  which  to  base  his  conjectures.  He 
knew  nothing,  any  more  than  his  mother,  of  his  father's 
affairs,  of  his  relations,  of  his  interests,  or  even  of  his 
life,  outside  the  house. 

And  mother  and  son  lost  themselves  in  suppositions  as 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  135 

vain  as  if  they  had  tried  to  find  the  solution  of  a  problem, 
without  possessing  its  terms. 

With  a  single  word  Mile.  Gilberte  thought  she  might 
have  enlightened  them. 

In  the  unerring  certainty  of  the  blow,  in  the  crushing 
promptness  of  the  result,  she  thought  she  could  recog- 
nize the  hand  of  Marius  de  Tregars. 

She  recognized  the  hand  of  the  man  who  acts,  and 
does  not  talk.  And  the  girl's  pride  felt  flattered  by  this 
victory,  by  this  proof  of  the  powerful  energy  of  the  man 
whom,  unknown  to  all,  she  had  selected.  She  liked  to 
imagine  Marius  de  Tregars  and  M.  Costeclar  in  pres- 
ence of  each  other, — the  one  as  imperious  and  haughty 
as  she  had  seen  him  meek  and  trembling ;  the  other  more 
humble  still  than  he  was  arrogant  with  her. 

"  One  thing  is  certain,"  she  repeated  to  herself,  "  and 
that  is,  I  am  saved." 

And  she  wished  the  morrow  to  come,  that  she  might 
announce  her  happiness  to  the  very  involuntary  and  very 
unconscious  accomplice  of  Marius,  the  worthy  Maestro 
Gismondo  Pulei. 

The  next  day  M.  Favoral  seemed  to  have  resigned 
himself  to  the  failure  of  his  projects ;  and,  the  following 
Saturday,  he  told  as  a  pleasant  joke,  how  Mile.  Gilberte 
had  carried  the  day,  and  had  managed  to  dismiss  her 
lover. 

But  a  close  observer  could  discover  in  him  symptoms 
of  tlevouring  cares.  Deep  wrinkles  showed  along  his 
temples;  his  eyes  were  sunken;  a  continued  tension  of 
mini  contracted  his  features.  Often  during  the  dinner 
he  would  remain  motionless  for  several  minutes,  his 
fork  aloft ;  and  then  he  would  murmur,  "  How  is  it  all 
goittg  to  end?  " 

Sometimes  in  the  morning,  before  his  departure  for 


136  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

his  office,  M.  Jottras,  of  the  house  of  Jottras  and  Brother, 
and  M.  Saint  Pavin,  the  manager  of  "  The  Financial 
Pilot,"  came  to  see  him.  They  closeted  themselves  to- 
gelher,  and  remained  for  hours  in  conference,  speaking 
so  low,  that  not  even  a  vague  murmur  could  be  heard 
outside  the  door. 

"  Your  father  has  grave  subjects  of  anxiety,  my  chil- 
dren," said  Mme.  Favoral :  "  you  may  believe  me, — me, 
who  for  twenty  years  have  been  trying  to  guess  our  fate 
upon  his  countenance." 

But  the  political  events  were  sufficient  to  explain  any 
amount  of  anxiety.  It  was  the  second  week  of  July, 
1870;  and  the  destinies  of  France  trembled,  as  upon  a 
cast  of  the  dice,  in  the  hands  of  a  few  presumptuous  in- 
capables.  Was  it  war  with  Prussia,  or  was  it  peace,  that 
was  to  issue  from  the  complications  of  a  childishly  astute 
policy  ? 

The  most  contradictory  rumors  caused  daily  at  the 
bourse  the  most  violent  oscillations,  which  endangered 
the  safest  fortunes.  A  few  words  uttered  in  a  corridor 
by  fimile  Ollivier  had  made  a  dozen  heavy  operators 
rich,  but  had  ruined  five  hundred  small  ones.  On  all 
hands,  credit  was  trembling. 

Until  one  evening  when  he  came  home, — 

"  War  is  declared,"  said  M.  Favoral. 

It  was  but  too  true ;  and  no  one  then  had  any  fears  of 
the  result  for  France.  They  had  so  much  exalted  the 
French  army,  they  had  so  often  said  that  it  was  invinci- 
ble, that  every  one  among  the  public  expected  a  series  of 
crushing  victories. 

Alas !  the  .first  telegram  announced  a  defeat.  People 
refused  to  believe  it  at  first.  But  there  was  the  evidence. 
The  soldiers  had  died  bravely ;  but  the  chiefs  had  been 
incapable  of  leading  them. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  137 

From  that  time,  and  with  a  vertiginous  rapidity,  from 
day  to  day,  from  hour  to  hour,  the  fatal  news  came 
crowding  on.  Like  a  river  that  overflows  its  banks, 
Prussia  was  overrunning  France.  Bazaine  was  sur- 
rounded at  Metz ;  and  the  capitulation  of  Sedan  capped 
the  climax  of  so  many  disasters. 

At  last,  on  the  4th  of  September,  the  republic  was  pro- 
claimed. 

On  the  5th,  when  the  Signer  Gismondo  Pulei  pre- 
sented himself  at  Rue  St.  Gilles,  his  face  bore  such  an 
expression  of  anguish,  that  Mile.  Gilberte  could  not  help 
asking  what  was  the  matter. 

He  rose  on  that  question,  and,  threatening  heaven 
with  his  clinched  fist, — 

"  Implacable  fate  does  not  tire  to  persecute  me,"  he 
replied.  "  I  had  overcome  all  obstacles :  I  was  happy :  I 
was  looking  forward  to  a  future  of  fortune  and  glory. 
No,  the  dreadful  war  must  break  out." 

For  the  worthy  maestro,  this  terrible  catastrophe  was 
but  a  new  caprice  of  his  own  destiny. 

"  What  has  happened  to  you  ?  "  inquired  the  young 
girl,  repressing  a  smile. 

"  It  happens  to  me,  signora,  that  I  am  about  to  lose  my 
beloved  pupil.  He  leaves  me;  he  forsakes  me.  In  vain 
have  I  thrown  myself  at  his  feet.  My  tears  have  not 
been  able  to  detain  him.  He  is  going  to  fight ;  he  leaves ; 
he  is  a  soldier !  " 

Then  it  was  given  to  Mile.  Gilberte  to  see  clearly 
within  her  soul.  Then  she  understood  how  absolutely 
she  had  given  herself  up,  and  to  what  extent  she  had 
ceased  to  belong  to  herself. 

Her  sensation  was  terrible,  such  as  if  her  whole  blood 
had  suddenly  escaped  through  her  open  arteries.  She 
turned  pale,  her  teeth  chattered ;  and  she  seemed  so  near 


138  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

fainting,  that  the  Signer  Gismondo  sprang  to  the  door, 
crying,  "  Help,  help !  she  is  dying." 

Mme.  Favoral,  frightened,  came  running  in. 

But  already,  thanks  to  an  all-powerful  projection  of 
will,  Mile.  Gilberte  had  recovered,  and,  smiling  a  pale 
smile, — 

"  It's  nothing,  mamma,"  she  said.  "A  sudden  pain 
in  the  head ;  but  it's  gone  already." 

The  worthy  maestro  was  in  perfect  agony.  Taking 
Mme.  Favoral  aside, — 

"  It  is  my  fault,"  he  said.  "  It  is  the  story  of  my  un- 
heard-of misfortunes  that  has  upset  her  thus.  Mon- 
strous egotist  that  I  am !  I  should  have  been  careful  of 
her  exquisite  sensibility." 

She  insisted,  nevertheless,  upon  taking  her  lesson  as 
usual,  and  recovered  enough  presence  of  mind  to  extract 
from  the  Signor  Gismondo  everything  that  his  much- 
regretted  pupil  had  confided  to  him. 

That  was  not  much.  He  knew  that  his  pupil  had 
gone,  like  anyone  else,  to  Rue  de  Cherche  Midi;  that 
he  had  signed  an  engagement,  and  had  been  ordered 
to  join  a  regiment  in  process  of  formation  near  Tours. 

And,  as  he  went  out, — 

"  That  is  nothing,"  said  the  kind  maestro  to  Mme. 
Favoral.  "  The  signora  has  quite  recovered,  and  is 
as  gay  as  a  lark." 

The  signora,  shut  up  in  her  room,  was  shedding 
bitter  tears.  She  tried  to  reason  with  herself,  and  could 
not  succeed.  Never  had  the  strangeness  of  her  situation 
so  clearly  appeared  to  her.  She  repeated  to  herself  that 
she  must  be  mad  to  have  thus  become  attached  to  a 
stranger.  She  wondered  how  she  could  have  allowed 
that  love,  which  was  now  her  very  life,  to  take  posses- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  139 

sion  of  her  soul.  But  to  what  end?  It  no  longer  rested 
with  her  to  undo  what  had  been  done. 

When  she  thought  that  Marius  de  Tregars  was  about 
to  leave  Paris  to  become  a  soldier,  to  fight,  to  die  per- 
haps, she  felt  her  head  whirl ;  she  saw  nothing  arounc1 
her  but  despair  and  chaos. 

And,  the  more  she  thought,  the  more  certain  she  felt 
that  Marius  could  not  have  trusted  solely  to  the  chance 
gossip  of  the  Signer  Pulei  to  communicate  to  her  his 
determination. 

'It  is  perfectly  inadmissible,"  she  thought.  "It  is  im- 
possible that  he  will  not  make  an  effort  to  see  me  before 
going." 

Thoroughly  imbued  with  the  idea,  she  wiped  her  eyes, 
took  a  seat  by  an  open  window;  and,  whilst  apparently 
busy  with  her  work,  she  concentrated  her  whole  atten- 
tion upon  the  street. 

There  were  more  people  out  than  usual.  The  recent 
events  had  stirred  Paris  to  its  lowest  depths,  and,  as 
from  the  crater  of  a  volcano  in  labor,  all  the  social  scoria 
rose  to  the  surface.  Men  of  sinister  appearance  left  their 
haunts,  and  wandered  through  the  city.  The  work- 
shops were  all  deserted ;  and  people  strolled  at  random, 
stupor  or  terror  painted  on  their  countenance. 

But  in  vain  did  Mile.  Gilberte  seek  in  all  this  crowd 
the  one  she  hoped  to  see.  The  hours  went  by,  and 
she  was  getting  discouraged,  when  suddenly,  towards 
dusk,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Turenne, — 

"  'Tis  he,"  cried  a  voice  within  her. 

It  was,  in  fact,  M.  de  Tregars.  He  was  walking 
towards  the  Boulevard,  slowly,  and  his  eyes  raised. 

Palpitating,  the  girl  rose  to  her  feet.  She  was  in  one 
of  those  moments  of  crisis  when  the  blood,  rushing 


140  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  the  brain,  smothers  all  judgment.  Unconscious,  as 
it  were,  of  her  acts,  she  leaned  over  the  window,  and 
made  a  sign  to  Marius,  which  he  understood  very 
well,  and  which  meant,  "  Wait,  I  am  coming  down." 

"  Where  are  you  going,  dear?  "  asked  Mme.  Favoral, 
seeing  Gilberte  putting  on  her  bonnet. 

"  To  the  shop,  mamma,  to  get  a  shade  of  worsted  I 
need." 

Mile.  Gilberte  was  not  in  the  habit  of  going  out  alone ; 
but  it  happened  quite  often  that  she  would  go  down  in 
the  neighborhood  on  some  little  errand. 

"  Do  you  wish  the  girl  to  go  out  with  you  ?  "  asked 
Mme.  Favoral. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  worth  while !  " 

She  ran  down  the  stairs ;  and  once  out,  regardless  of 
the  looks  that  might  be  watching  her,  she  walked 
straight  to  M.  de  Tregars,  who  was  waiting  on  the  cor- 
ner of  the  Rue  des  Minimes. 

"  You  are  going  away  ?  "  she  said,  too  much  agitated 
to  notice  his  own  emotion,  which  was,  however,  quite 
evident. 

"  I  must,"  he  answered. 

"Oh!" 

"  When  France  is  invaded,  the  place  for  a  man  who 
bears  my  name  is  where  the  fighting  is." 

"But  there  will  be  fighting  in  Paris  too." 

"  Paris  has  four  times  as  many  defenders  as  it  needs. 
It  is  outside  that  soldiers  will  be  wanted." 

They  walked  slowly,  as  they  spoke  thus,  along  the 
Rue  des  Minimes,  one  of  the  least  frequented  in  Paris ; 
and  there  were  only  to  be  seen  at  this  hour  five  or  six 
soldiers  talking  in  front  of  the  barracks  gate. 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  beg  you  not  to  go,"  resumed 
Mile.  Gilberte.  "  Suppose  I  beseeched  you,  Marius !  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  141 

"  I  should  remain  then,"  he  answered  in  a  troubled 
voice ;  "  but  I  would  be  betraying  my  duty,  and  failing 
to  my  honor ;  and  remorse  would  weigh  upon  our  whole 
life.  Command  now,  and  I  will  obey." 

They  had  stopped;  and  no  one  seeing  them  standing 
there  side  by  side  affectionate  and  familiar  could  have 
believed  that  they  were  speaking  to  each  other  for  the 
first  time.  They  themselves  did  not  notice  it,  so  much 
had  they  come,  with  the  help  of  all-powerful  imagina- 
tion, and  in  spite  of  separation,  to  the  understanding  of 
intimacy. 

After  a  moment  of  painful  reflection, — 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  any  longer  to  stay,"  uttered  the 
young  girl. 

He  took  her  hand,  and  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

"  I  expected  no  less  of  your  courage,"  he  said,  his 
voice  vibrating  with  love. 

But  he  controlled  himself,  and,  in  a  more  quiet  tone, — 

"  Thanks  to  the  indiscretion  of  Pulei,"  he  added, 
"  I  was  in  hopes,  of  seeing  you,  but  not  to  have  the  hap- 
piness of  speaking  to  you.  I  had  written  " — 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  large  envelope,  and,  hand- 
ing it  to  Mile.  Gilberte, — 

"  Here  is  the  letter,"  he  continued,  "  which  I  intended 
for  you.  It  contains  another,  which  I  beg  you  to  pre- 
serve carefully,  and  not  to  open  unless  I  do  not  return. 
I  leave  you  in  Paris  a  devoted  friend,  the  Count  de  Vil- 
legre.  Whatever  may  happen  to  you,  apply  to  him  with 
all  confidence,  as  you  would  to  myself." 

Mile.  Gilberte,  staggering,  leaned  against  the  wall. 

"  When  do  you  expect  to  leave  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  This  very  night.  Communications  may  be  cut  off 
at  any  moment." 

Admirable  in  her  sorrow,  but  also  full  of  energy, 


142  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  poor  girl  looked  up,  and  held  out  her  hand  to 
him. 

"  Go  then,"  she  said,  "  O  my  only  friend !  go,  since 
honor  commands.  But  do  not  forget  that  it  is  not  your 
life  alone  that  you  are  going  to  risk." 

And,  fearing  to  burst  into  sobs,  she  fled,  and  reached 
the  Rue  St.  Gilles  a  few  moments  before  her  father, 
who  had  gone  out  in  quest  of  news. 

Those  he  brought  home  were  of  the  most  sinister 
kind. 

Like  the  rising  tide,  the  Prussians  spread  and  ad- 
vanced, slowly,  but  steadily.  Their  marches  were 
numbered ;  and  the  day  and  hour  could  be  named  when 
their  flood  would  come  and  strike  the  walls  of  Paris. 

And  so,  at  all  the  railroad  stations,  there  was  a  prodi- 
gious rush  of  people  who  wished  to  leave  at  any  cost, 
in  any  way,  in  the  baggage-car  if  needs  be,  and  who 
certainly  were  not,  like  Marius,  rushing  to  meet  the 
enemy. 

One  after  another,  M.  Favoral  had  seen  nearly  every 
one  he  knew  take  flight. 

The  Baron  and  Baroness  de  Thaller  and  their  daugh- 
ter had  gone  to  Switzerland ;  M.  Costeclar  was  travel- 
ling in  Belgium ;  the  elder  Jottras  was  in  England,  buy- 
ing guns  and  cartr'dges;  and  if  the  younger  Jottras, 
with  M.  Saint  Pavin  of  "The  Financial  Pilot,"  re- 
mained in  Paris,  it  was  because,  through  the  gallant  in- 
fluence of  a  lady  \\hose  name  was  not  mentioned,  they 
had  obtained  some  valuable  contracts  from  the  govern- 
ment. 

The  perplexities  of  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
were  great.  The  day  that  the  Baron  and  the  Baroness 
de  Thaller  had  left,-  — 

"  Pack  up  our  tiunks,"  he  ordered  his  wife.     "The 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  143 

bourse  is  going  to  close ;  and  the  Mutual  Credit  can  very 
well  get  along  without  me." 

But  the  next  day  he  became  undecided  again.  What 
Mile.  Gilberte  thought  she  could  guess,  was,  that  he  was 
dying  to  start  alone,  and  leave  his  family,  but  dared 
not  do  it.  He  hesitated  so  long,  that  at  last,  one  even- 
ing— 

"  You  may  unpack  the  trunks,"  he  said  to  his  wife. 
"  Paris  is  invested ;  and  no  one  can  now  leave." 


XVIII. 

IN  fact,  the  news  had  just  come,  that  the  Western 
Railroad,  the  last  one  that  had  remained  open,  was  now 
cut  off. 

Paris  was  invested ;  and  so  rapid  had  been  the  invest- 
ment, that  it  could  hardly  be  believed. 

People  went  in  crowds  on  all  the  culminating  points, 
the  hills  of  Montmartre,  and  the  heights  of  the  Troca- 
dero.  Telescopes  had  been  erected  there;  and  every 
one  was  anxious  to  scan  the  horizon,  and  look  for  the 
Prussians. 

But  nothing  could  be  discovered.  The  distant  fields 
retained  their  quiet  and  smiling  aspect  under  the  mild 
rays  of  the  autumn  sun. 

So  that  it  really  required  quite  an  effort  of  imagi- 
nation to  realize  the  sinister  fact,  to  understand  that 
Paris,  with  its  two  millions  of  inhabitants,  was  indeed 
cut  off  from  the  world  and  separated  from  the  rest  of 
France,  by  an  insurmountable  circle  of  steel. 

Doubt,  and  something  like  a  vague  hope,  could  be 
traced  in  the  tone  of  the  people  who  met  on  the  streets, 
saying,— 


144  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Well,  it's  all  over :  we  can't  leave  any  more.  Let- 
ters, even,  cannot  pass.  No  more  news,  eh  ?  " 

But  the  next  day,  which  was  the  I9th  of  September, 
the  most  incredulous  were  convinced. 

For  the  first  time  Paris  shuddered  at  the  hoarse 
voice  of  the  cannon,  thundering  on  the  heights  of 
Chatillon.  The  siege  of  Paris,  that  siege  without  ex- 
ample in  history,  had  commenced. 

The  life  of  the  Favorals  during  these  interminable 
days  of  anguish  and  suffering,  was  that  of  a  hundred 
thousand  other  families. 

Incorporated  in  the  battalion  of  his  ward,  the  cashier 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  went  off  two  or  three  times  a 
week,  as  well  as  all  his  neighbors,  to  mount  guard  on 
the  ramparts, — a  useless  service  perhaps,  but  which 
those  that  performed  it  did  not  look  upon  as  such, — a 
very  arduous  service,  at  any  rate,  for  poor  merchants, 
accustomed  to  the  comforts  of  their  shops,  or  the  quiet 
of  their  offices. 

To  be  sure,  there  was  nothing  heroic  in  tramping 
through  the  mud,  in  receiving  the  rain  or  the  snow  upon 
the  back,  in  sleeping  on  the  ground  or  on  dirty  straw, 
in  remaining  on  guard  with  the  thermometer  twenty 
degrees  below  the  freezing-point.  But  people  die  of 
pleurisy  quite  as  certainly  as  of  a  Prussian  bullet;  and 
many  died  of  it. 

Maxence  showed  himself  but  rarely  at  Rue  St.  Gilles : 
enlisted  in  a  battalion  of  sharpshooters,  he  did  duty 
at  the  advanced  posts.  And,  as  to  Mme.  Favoral  and 
Mile.  Gilberte,  they  spent  the  day  trying  to  get  some- 
thing to  live  on.  Rising  before  daylight,  through  rain 
or  snow,  they  took  their  stand  before  the  butcher's  stall, 
and,  after  waiting  for  hours,  received  a  small  slice  of 
horse-meat. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  145 

Alone  in  the  evening,  by  the  side  of  the  hearth  where 
a  few  pieces  of  green  wood  smoked  without  burning, 
they  started  at  each  of  the  distant  reports  of  the  cannon. 
At  each  detonation  that  shook  the  window-panes,  Mme. 
Favoral  thought  that  it  was,  perhaps,  the  one  that  had 
killed  her  son. 

And  Mile.  Gilberte  was  thinking  of  Marius  de  Tre- 
gars.  The  accursed  days  of  November  and  December 
had  come.  There  were  constant  rumors  of  bloody 
battles  around  Orleans.  She  imagined  Marius,  mor- 
tally wounded,  expiring  on  the  snow,  alone,  without 
help,  and  without  a  friend  to  receive  his  supreme  will 
and  his  last  breath. 

One  evening  the  vision  was  so  clear,  and  the  impres- 
sion so  strong,  that  she  started  up  with  a  loud  cry. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Mme.  Favoral,  alarmed. 
"What  is  the  matter?" 

With  a  little  perspicacity,  the  worthy  woman  could 
easily  have  obtained  her  daughter's  secret;  for  Mile. 
Gilberte  was  not  in  condition  to  deny  anything.  But 
she  contented  herself  with  an  explanation  which  meant 
nothing,  and  had  not  a  suspicion,  when  the  girl  an- 
swered with  a  forced  smile, — 

"  It's  nothing,  dear  mother,  nothing  but  an  absurd 
idea  that  crossed  my  mind." 

Strange  to  say,  never  had  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  been  for  his  family  what  he  was  during  these 
months  of  trials. 

During  the  first  weeks  of  the  siege  he  had  been 
anxious,  agitated,  nervous;  he  wandered  through  the 
house  like  a  soul  in  trouble ;  he  had  moments  of  incon- 
ceivable prostration,  during  which  tears  could  be  seen 
rolling  down  upon  his  cheeks,  and  then  fits  of  anger 
without  motive. 


146  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

But  each  day  that  elapsed  had  seemed  to  bring  calm  to 
his  soul.  Little  by  little,  he  had  become  to  his  wife  so 
indulgent  and  so  affectionate,  that  the  poor  helot  felt 
her  heart  touched.  He  had  for  his  daughter  attentions 
which  caused  her  to  wonder. 

Often,  when  the  weather  was  fine,  he  took  them  out 
walking,  leading  them  along  the  quays  towards  a  part 
of  the  walls  occupied  by  the  battalion  of  their  ward. 
Twice  he  took  them  to  St.  Onen,  where  the  sharp- 
shooters were  encamped  to  which  Maxence  belonged. 

Another  day  he  wished  to  take  them  to  visit  M.  de 
Thaller's  house,  of  which  he  had  charge.  They  refused, 
and  instead  of  getting  angry,  as  he  certainly  would 
have  done  formerly,  he  commenced  describing  to  them 
the  splendors  of  the  apartments,  the  magnificent  furni- 
ture, the  carpets  and  the  hangings,  the  paintings  by  the 
great  masters,  the  objects  of  arts,  the  bronzes,  in  a  word, 
all  that  dazzling  luxury  of  which  financiers  make  use, 
somewhat  as  hunters  do  of  the  mirror  with  which  larks 
are  caught. 

Of  business,  nothing  was  ever  said. 

He  went  every  morning  as  far  as  the  office  of  the 
Mutual  Credit ;  but,  as  he  said,  it  was  solely  as  a  matter 
of  form.  Once  in  a  long  while,  M.  Saint  Pavin  and 
the  younger  Jottras  paid  a  visit  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 
They  had  suspended, — the  one  the  payments  of  his 
banking  house ;  the  other,  the  publication  of  "  The 
Financial  Pilot." 

But  they  were  not  idle  for  all  that ;  and,  in  the  midst 
of  the  public  distress,  they  still  managed  to  speculate 
upon  something,  no  one  knew  what,  and  to  realize 
profits. 

They  rallied  pleasantly  the  fools  who  had  faith  in  the 
Defence,  and  imitated  in  the  most  laughable  manner 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  147 

the  appearance,  under  their  soldier's  coat,  of  three  or 
four  of  their  friends  who  had  joined  the  marching 
battalions.  They  boasted  that  they  had  no  privations 
to  endure,  and  always  knew  where  to  find  the  fresh 
butter  wherewith  to  dress  the  large  slices  of  beef  which 
they  possessed  the  art  of  finding.  Mme.  Favoral 
heard  them  laugh;  and  M.  Saint  Pavin,  the  manager 
of  "  The  Financial  Pilot,"  exclaimed, — 

"  Come,  come !  we  would  be  fools  to  complain.  It  is 
a  general  liquidation,  without  risks  and  without  costs." 

Their  mirth  had  something  revolting  in  it;  for  it 
was  now  the  last  and  most  acute  period  of  the  siege. 

At  the  beginning  the  greatest  optimists  hardly 
thought  that  Paris  could  hold  out  longer  than  six  weeks. 
And  now  the  investment  had  lasted  over  four  months. 
The  population  was  reduced  to  nameless  articles  of  food. 
The  supply  of  bread  had  failed ;  the  wounded,  for  lack 
of  a  little  soup,  died  in  the  ambulances ;  old  people  and 
children  perished  by  the  hundred ;  on  the  left  bank  the 
shells  came  down  thick  and  fast,  the  weather  was  in- 
tensely cold,  and  there  was  no  more  fuel. 

And  yet  no  one  complained.  From  the  midst  of  that 
population  of  two  millions  of  inhabitants,  not  one  voice 
rose  to  beg  for  their  comfort,  their  health,  their  life  even, 
at  the  cost  of  a  capitulation. 

Clear-sighted  men  had  never  hoped  that  Paris  alone 
could  compel  the  raising  of  the  siege ;  but  they  thought, 
that  by  holding  out,  and  keeping  the  Prussians  under  its 
walls,  Paris  would  give  to  France  time  to  rise,  to  or- 
ganize armies,  and  to  rush  upon  the  enemy.  There  was 
the  duty  of  Paris ;  and  Paris  was  toiling  to  fulfil  it  to 
the  utmost  limits  of  possibility,  reckoning  as  a  victory 
each  day  that  it  gained. 

Unfortunately,  all  this  suffering  was  to  be  in  vain. 


148  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

The  fatal  hour  struck,  when,  supplies  being  exhausted, 
it  became  necessary  to  surrender. 

During  three  days  the  Prussians  camped  in  the 
Champs  Elysees,  gazing  with  longing  eyes  upon  that 
city,  object  of  their  most  eager  desires, — that  Paris 
within  which,  victorious  though  they  were,  they  had  not 
dared  to  venture.  Then,  soon  after,  communications 
were  reopened ;  and  one  morning,  as  he  received  a  letter 
from  Switzerland, — 

"  It  is  from  the  Baron  de  Thaller !  "  exclaimed  M. 
Favoral. 

Exactly  so.  The  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  was 
a  prudent  man.  Pleasantly  situated  in  Switzerland, 
he  was  in  nowise  anxious  to  return  to  Paris  before  being 
quite  certain  that  he  had  no  risks  to  run. 

Upon  receiving  M.  Favoral's  assurances  to  that  ef- 
fect, he  started ;  and,  almost  at  the  same  time  the  elder 
Jottras  and  M.  Costeclar  made  their  appearance. 


XIX. 

IT  was  a  curious  spectacle,  the  return  of  those  braves 
for  whom  Parisian  slang  had  invented  the  new  and 
significant  expression  of  franc-fileur. 

They  were  not  so  proud  then  as  they  have  been  since. 
Feeling  rather  embarrassed  in  the  midst  of  a  population 
still  quivering  with  the  emotions  of  the  siege,  they  had 
at  least  the  good  taste  to  try  and  find  pretexts  for  their 
absence. 

"  I  was  cut  off,"  affirmed  the  Baron  de  Thaller.  "  I 
had  gone  to  Switzerland  to  place  my  wife  and  daughter 
in  safety.  When  I  came  back,  good-by!  the  Prussians 
had  closed  the  doors.  For  more  than  a  week,  I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  149 

wandered  around  Paris,  trying  to  find  an  opening.  I 
became  suspected  of  being  a  spy.  I  was  arrested.  A 
little  more,  and  I  was  shot  dead !  " 

"As  to  myself,"  declared  M.  Costeclar,  "  I  foresaw 
exactly  what  has  happened.  I  knew  that  it  was  outside, 
to  organize  armies  of  relief,  that  men  would  be  wanted. 
I  went  to  offer  my  services  to  the  government  of  de- 
fence; and  everybody  in  Bordeaux  saw  me  booted  and 
spurred,  and  ready  to  leave." 

He  was  consequently  soliciting  the  Cross  of  the  Le- 
gion of  Honor,  and  was  not  without  hopes  of  obtaining 
it  through  the  all-gowerful  influence  of  his  financial 
connections. 

"Didn't  So-and-so  get  it?"  he  replied  to  objections. 
And  he  named  this  or  that  individual  whose  feats  of 
arms  consisted  principally  in  having  exhibited  them- 
selves in  uniforms  covered  with  gold  lace  to  the  very 
shoulders. 

"  But  I  am  the  man  who  deserves  it  most,  that  cross," 
insisted  the  younger  M.  Jottras;  "  for  I,  at  least,  have 
rendered  valuable  services." 

And  he  went  on  telling  how,  after  searching  for  arms 
all  over  England,  he  had  sailed  for  New  York,  where  he 
had  purchased  any  number  of  guns  and  cartridges,  and 
even  some  batteries  of  artillery. 

This  last  journey  had  been  very  wearisome  to  him,  he 
added  and  yet  he  did  not  regret  it ;  for  it  had  furnished 
him  an  opportunity  to  study  on  the  spot  the  financial 
morals  of  America;  and  he  had  returned  with  ideas 
enough  to  make  the  fortune  of  three  or  four  stock  com- 
panies with  twenty  millions  of  capital. 

"  Ah,  those  Americans !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  They  are 
the  men  who  understand  business!  We  are  but  chil- 
dren by  the  side  of  them." 


150  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

It  was  through  M.  Chapelain,  the  Desclavettes,  and 
old  Desormeaux,  that  these  news  reached  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles. 

It  was  also  through  Maxence,  whose  battalion  had 
been  dissolved,  and  who,  whilst  waiting  for  something 
better,  had  accepted  a  clerkship  in  the  office  of  the 
Orleans  Railway,  where  he  earned  two  hundred  francs  a 
month.  For  M.  Favoral  saw  and  heard  nothing  that 
was  going  on  around  him.  He  was  wholly  absorbed 
in  his  business:  he  left  earlier,  came  home  later,  and 
hardly  allowed  himself  time  to  eat  and  drink. 

He  told  all  his  friends  that  business  was  looking  up 
again  in  the  most  unexpected  manner;  that  there  were 
fortunes  to  be  made  by  those  who  could  command 
ready  cash ;  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  make  up  for  lost 
time. 

He  pretended  that  the  enormous  indemnity  to  be  paid 
to  the  Prussians  would  necessitate  an  enormous  move- 
ment of  capital,  financial  combinations,  a  loan,  and  that 
so  many  millions  could  not  be  handled  without  allowing 
a  few  little  millions  to  fall  into  intelligent  pockets. 

Dazzled  by  the  mere  enumeration  of  those  fabulous 
sums,  "  I  should  not  be  a  bit  surprised,"  said  the  others, 
"  to  see  Favoral  double  and  treble  his  fortune.  What 
a  famous  match  his  daughter  will  be !  " 

Alas !  never  had  Mile.  Gilberte  felt  in  her  heart  so 
much  hatred  and  disgust  for  that  money,  the  only 
thought,  the  sole  subject  of  conversation,  of  those 
around  her, — for  that  cursed  money  which  had  risen 
like  an  insurmountable  obstacle  between  Marius  and 
herself. 

For  two  weeks  past,  the  communications  had  been 
completely  restored ;  and  there  was  as  yet  no  sign  of 
M.  de  Tregars.  It  was  with  the  most  violent  palpita- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  151 

tions  of  her  heart  that  she  awaited  each  day  the  hour 
of  the  Signor  Gismondo  Pulei's  lesson :  and  more  pain- 
ful each  time  became  her  anguish  when  she  heard  him 
exclaim, — 

"  Nothing,  not  a  line,  not  a  word.  The  pupil  has  for- 
gotten his  old  master !  " 

But  Mile.  Gilberte  knew  well  that  Marius  did  not 
forget.  Her  blood  froze  in  her  veins  when  she  read  in 
the  papers  the  interminable  list  of  those  poor  soldiers 
who  had  succumbed  during  the  invasion, — the  more  for- 
tunate ones  under  Prussian  bullets ;  the  others  along  the 
roads,  in  the  mud  or  in  the  snow,  of  cold,  of  fatigue, 
of  suffering  and  of  want. 

She  could  not  drive  from  her  mind  the  memory  of 
that  lugubrious  vision  which  had  so  much  frightened 
her ;  and  she  was  asking  herself  whether  it  was  not  one 
of  those  inexplicable  presentiments,  of  which  there  are 
examples,  which  announce  the  death  of  a  beloved 
person. 

Alone  at  night  in  her  little  room,  Mile.  Gilberte  with- 
drew from  the  hiding-place,  where  she  kept  it  preciously, 
that  package  which  Marius  had  confiaed  to  her,  recom- 
mending her  not  to  open  it  until  she  was  sure  that  he 
would  not  return.  It  was  very  voluminous,  enclosed 
in  an  envelope  of  thick  paper,  sealed  with  red  wax,  bear- 
ing the  arms  of  Tregars;  and  she  had  often  wondered 
what  it  could  possibly  contain.  And  now  she  shud- 
dered at  the  thought  that  she  had  perhaps  the  right  to 
open  it. 

And  she  had  no  one  of  whom  she  could  ask  for  a 
word  of  hope.  She  was  compelled  to  hide  her  tears, 
and  to  put  on  a  smile.  She  was  compelled  to  invent 
pretexts  for  those  who  expressed  their  wonder  at  see- 
ing her  exquisite  beauty  withering  in  the  bud, — for  her 


152  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

mother,  whose  anxiety  was  without  limit,  when  she  saw 
her  thus  pale,  her  eyes  inflamed,  and  undermined  by  a 
continuous  fever. 

True,  Marius,  on  leaving,  had  left  her  a  friend,  the 
Count  de  Villegre ;  and,  if  any  one  knew  any  thing,  he 
certainly  did.  But  she  could  see  no  way  of  hearing 
from  him  without  risking  her  secret.  Write  to  him? 
Nothing  was  easier,  since  she  had  his  address, — Rue 
Turenne.  But  where  could  she  ask  him  to  direct  his 
answer?  Rue  St.  Gilles?  Impossible!  True,  she 
might  go  to  him,  or  make  an  appointment  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. But  how  could  she  escape,  even  for  an  hour, 
without  exciting  Mme.  Favoral's  suspicions? 

Sometimes  it  occurred  to  her  to  confide  in  Maxence, 
who  was  laboring  with  admirable  constancy  to  redeem 
his  past. 

But  what !  must  she,  then,  confess  the  truth, — confess 
that  she,  Gilberte,  had  lent  her  ears  to  the  words  of  a 
stranger,  met  by  chance  in  the  street,  and  that  she 
looked  forward  to  no  happiness  in  life  save  through 
him?  She  dared  not.  She  could  not  take  upon  her- 
self to  overcome  the  shame  of  such  a  situation. 

She  was  on  the  verge  of  despair,  the  day  when  the 
Signer  Pulei  arrived  radiant,  exclaiming  from  the  very 
threshold,  "  I  have  news !  " 

And  at  once,  without  surprise  at  the  awful  emotion 
of  the  girl,  which  he  attributed  solely  to  the  interest 
she  felt  for  him, — him  Gismondo  Pulei,  he  went  on, — 

"  I  did  not  get  them  direct,  but  through  a  respectable 
signer  with  long  mustaches,  and  a  red  ribbon  at  his 
buttonhole,  who,  having  received  a  letter  from  my 
dear  pupil,  has  deigned  to  come  to  my  room,  and  read 
it  to  me." 

The  worthy  maestro  had  not  forgotten  a  single  word 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  153 

of  that  letter ;  and  it  was  almost  literally  that  he  re- 
peated it. 

Six  weeks  after  having  enlisted,  his  pupil  had  been 
promoted  corporal,  then  sergeant,  then  lieutenant.  He 
had  fought  in  all  the  battles  of  the  army  of  the  Loire 
without  receiving  a  scratch.  But  at  the  battle  of  the 
Maus,  whilst  leading  back  his  men,  who  were  giving 
way,  he  had  been  shot  twice,  full  in  the  breast.  Carried 
dying  into  an  ambulance,  he  had  lingered  three  weeks 
between  life  and  death,  having  lost  all  consciousness  of 
self.  Twenty-four  hours  after,  he  had  recovered  his 
senses ;  and  he  took  the  first  opportunity  to  recall  him- 
self to  the  affection  of  his  friends.  All  danger  was  over, 
he  suffered  scarcely  any  more;  and  they  promised  him, 
that,  within  a  month,  he  would  be  up,  and  able  to  re- 
turn to  Paris. 

For  the  first  time  in  many  weeks  Mile.  Gilberte 
breathed  freely.  But  she  would  have  been  greatly 
surprised,  had  she  been  told  that  a  day  was  drawing 
near  when  she  would  bless  those  wounds  which  detained 
Marius  upon  a  hospital  cot.  And  yet  it  was  so. 

Mme.  Favoral  and  her  daughter  were  alone,  one 
evening,  at  the  house,  when  loud  clamors  arose  from  the 
street,  in  the  midst  of  which  could  be  heard  drunken 
voices  yelling  the  refrains  of  revolutionary  songs,  ac- 
companied by  continuous  rumbling  sounds.  They  ran 
to  the  window.  The  National  Guards  had  just  taken 
possession  of  the  cannon  deposited  in  the  Place  Royale. 
The  reign  of  the  Commune  was  commencing. 

In  less  than  forty-eight  hours,  people  came  to  regret 
the  worst  days  of  the  siege.  Without  leaders,  without 
direction,  the  honest  men  had  lost  their  heads.  All  the 
braves  who  had  returned  at  the  time  of  the  armistice 
had  again  taken  flight.  Soon  people  had  to  hide  or  to 


154  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

fly  to  avoid  being  incorporated  in  the  battalions  of  the 
Commune.  Night  and  day,  around  the  walls,  the 
fusillade  rattled,  and  the  artillery  thundered. 

Again  M.  Favoral  had  given  up  going  to  his  office. 
What's  the  use?  Sometimes,  with  a  singular  look,  he 
would  say  to  his  wife  and  children, — 

"  This  time  it  is  indeed  a  liquidation.     Paris  is  lost !  " 

And  indeed  they  thought  so,  when  at  the  hour  of  the 
supreme  struggle,  among  the  detonations  of  the  cannon 
and  the  explosion  of  the  shells;  they  felt  their  house 
shaking  to  its  very  foundations;  when  in  the  midst  of 
the  night  they  saw  their  apartment  as  brilliantly  lighted 
as  at  mid-day  by  the  flames  which  were  consuming  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  and  the  houses  around  the  Place  de  la 
Bastille.  And,  in  fact,  the  rapid  action  of  the  troops 
alone  saved  Paris  from  destruction. 

But  towards  the  end  of  the  following  week,  matters 
had  commenced  to  quiet  down;  and  Gilberte  learned 
the  return  of  Marius. 


XX. 

"  AT  last  it  has  been  given  to  my  eyes  to  contemplate 
him,  and  to  my  arms  to  press  him  against  my  heart !  " 

It  was  in  these  terms  that  the  old  Italian  master,  all 
vibrating  with  enthusiasm,  and  with  his  most  terrible 
accent,  announced  to  Mile.  Gilberte  that  he  had  just  seen 
that  famous  pupil  from  whom  he  expected  both  glory 
and  fortune. 

"  But  how  weak  he  is  still !  "  he  added,  "  and  suffer- 
ing from  his  wounds.  I  hardly  recognized  him,  he  has 
grown  so  pale  and  so  thin." 

But  the  girl  was  listening  to  him  no  more.  A  flood  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  155 

life  filled  her  heart.  This  moment  made  her  forget  all 
her  troubles  and  all  her  anguish. 

"  And  I  too,"  thought  she,  "  shall  see  him  again  to- 
day." 

And,  with  the  unerring  instinct  of  the  woman  who 
loves,  she  calculated  the  moment  whc  i  Marius  would 
appear  in  Rue  St.  Gilles.  It  would  p  obably  be  about 
nightfall,  like  the  first  time,  before  leavL  ig ;  that  is,  about 
eight  o'clock,  for  the  days  just  then  weie  about  the  long- 
est in  the  year.  Now  it  so  happened,  that,  on  that  very 
day  and  hour,  Mile.  Gilberte  expected  to  be  alone  at 
home.  It  was  understood  that  her  mother  would,  after 
dinner,  call  on  Mme.  Desclavettes,  who  was  in  bed,  half 
dead  of  the  fright  she  had  had  during  the  last  convul- 
sions of  the  Commune.  She  would  therefore  be  free, 
and  would  not  need  to  invent  a  pretext  to  go  out  for  a 
few  moments.  She  could  not  help,  however,  but  feel 
that  this  was  a  bold  and  most  venturesome  step  for  her 
to  take;  and,  when  her  mother  went  out,  she  had  not 
yet  fully  decided  what  to  do.  But  her  bonnet  was 
within  reach,  and  Marius'  letter  was  in  her  pocket.  She 
went  to  sit  at  the  window.  The  street  was  solitary  and 
silent  as  of  old.  Night  was  coming;  and  heavy  black 
clouds  floated  over  Paris.  The  heat  was  overpowering : 
there  was  not  a  breath  of  air. 

One  by  one,  as  the  hour  was  approaching  when  she 
expected  to  see  Marius,  the  hesitations  of  the  young 
girl  vanished  like  smoke.  She  feared  but  one  thing, — 
that  he  would  not  come,  or  that  he  may  already  have 
come  and  left,  without  succeeding  in  seeing  her. 

Already  did  the  objects  become  less  distinct;  and  the 
gas  was  being  lit  in  the  back-shops,  when  she  recognized 
him  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  He  looked  up  as  he 
went  by;  and,  without  stopping,  he  addressed  her  a 


156  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

rapid  gesture,  which  she  alone  could  understand,  and 
which  meant,  "  Come,  I  beseech  you !  " 

Her  heart  beating  loud  enough  to  be  heard,  Mile.  Gil- 
berte  ran  down  the  stairs.  But  it  was  only  when  she 
found  herself  in  the  street  that  she  could  appreciate  the 
magnitude  of  the  risk  she  was  running.  Concierges  and 
shopkeepers  were  all  sitting  in  front  of  their  doors,  tak- 
ing the  fresh  air.  All  knew  her.  Would  they  not  be  sur- 
prised to  see  her  out  alone  at  such  an  hour?  Twenty 
steps  in  front  of  her  she  could  see  Marius.  But  he  had 
understood  the  danger;  for,  instead  of  turning  the  cor- 
ner of  the  Rue  des  Minimes,  he  followed  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles  straight,  and  only  stopped  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Boulevard. 

Then  only  did  Mile.  Gilberte  join  him;  and  she  could 
not  withhold  an  exclamation,  when  she  saw  that  he 
was  as  pale  as  death,  and  scarcely  able  to  stand  and  to 
walk. 

"  How  imprudent  of  you  to  have  returned  so  soon !  " 
she  said. 

A  little  blood  came  to  M.  de  Tregars'  cheeks.  His 
face  brightened  up,  and,  in  a  voice  quivering  with  sup- 
pressed passion, — 

"  It  would  have  been  more  imprudent  still  to  stay 
away,"  he  uttered.  "  Far  from  you,  I  felt  myself  dying." 

They  were  both  leaning  against  the  door  of  a  closed 
shop ;  and  they  were  as  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  throng 
that  circulated  on  the  Boulevards,  busy  looking  at  the 
fearful  wrecks  of  the  Commune. 

"  And  besides,"  added  Marius,  "  have  I,  then,  a  min- 
ute to  lose  ?  I  asked  you  for  three  years.  Fifteen  months 
have  gone,  and  I  am  no  better  off  than  on  the  first  day. 
When  this  accursed  war  broke  out,  all  my  arrange- 
ments were  made.  I  was  certain  to  rapidly  accumulate 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  157 

a  sufficient  fortune  to  enable  me  to  ask  for  your  hand 
without  being  refused.  Whereas  now  " — 

"Well?" 

"  Now  every  thing  is  changed.  The  future  is  so  un- 
certain, that  no  one  wishes  to  venture  their  capital.  Mar- 
colet  himself,  who  certainly  does  not  lack  boldness,  and 
who  believes  firmly  in  the  success  of  our  enterprise,  was 
telling  me  yesterday,  '  There  is  nothing  to  be  done  just 
now :  we  must  wait.' ': 

There  was  in  his  voice  such  an  intensity  of  grief,  that 
the  girl  felt  the  tears  coming  to  her  eyes. 

"  We  will  wait  then,"  she  said,  attempting  to  smile. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  he  said.  "  Do  you,  then,  think  that 
I  do  not  know  what  a  life  you  lead  ?  " 

Mile.  Gilberte  looked  up. 

"  Have  I  ever  complained?  "  she  asked  proudly? 

"  No.  Your  mother  and  yourself,  you  have  always 
religiously  kept  the  secret  of  your  tortures;  and  it  was 
only  a  providential  accident  that  revealed  them  to  me. 
But  I  learned  every  thing  at  last.  I  know  that  she  whom 
I  love  exclusively  and  with  all  the  power  of  my  soul  is 
subjected  to  the  most  odious  despotism,  insulted,  and 
condemned  to  the  most  humiliating  privations.  And  I, 
who  would  give  my  life  for  her  a  thousand  times  over, — 
I  can  do  nothing  for  her.  Money  raises  between  us  such 
an  insuperable  obstacle,  that  my  love  is  actually  an  of- 
fence. To  hear  from  her,  I  am  driven  to  accept  accom- 
plices. If  I  obtain  from  her  a  few  moments  of  conversa- 
tion, I  run  the  risk  of  compromising  her  maidenly  repu- 
tation." 

Deeply  affected  by  his  emotion — 

"  At  least,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte,  "  you  succeeded  in 
delivering  me  from  M.  Costeclar." 


158  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Yes,  I  was  fortunately  able  to  find  weapons  against 
that  scoundrel.  But  can  I  find  some  against  all  others 
that  may  offer  ?  Your  father  is  very  rich ;  and  the  men 
are  numerous  for  whom  marriage  is  but  a  speculation 
like  any  other." 

"  Would  you  doubt  me  ?  " 

"  Ah,  rather  would  I  doubt  myself !  But  I  know  what 
cruel  trials  your  refusal  to  marry  M.  Costeclar  imposed 
upon  you :  I  know  what  a  merciless  struggle  you  had  to 
sustain.  Another  pretender  may  come,  and  then —  No, 
no,  you  see  that  we  cannot  wait." 

"  What  would  you  do?  " 

"  I  know  not.  I  have  not  yet  decided  upon  my  future 
course.  And  yet  Heaven  knows  what  have  been  the  la- 
bors of  my  mind  during  that  long  month  I  have  just 
spent  upon  an  ambulance-bed, — that  month  during 
which  you  were  my  only  thought.  Ah !  when  I  think  of 
it,  I  cannot  find  words  to  curse  the  recklessness  with 
which  I  disposed  of  my  fortune." 

As  if  she  had  heard  a  blasphemy,  the  young  girl  drew 
back  a  step. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  you  should 
regret  having  paid  what  your  father  owed." 

A  bitter  smile  contracted  M.  de  Tregars'  lips. 

"  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you,"  he  replied,  "  that 
my  father  in  reality  owed  nothing  ?  " 

"Oh!" 

"  Suppose  I  told  you  they  took  from  him  his  entire 
fortune,  over  two  millions,  as  audaciously  as  a  pick- 
pocket robs  a  man  of  his  handkerchief  ?  Suppose  I  told 
you,  that,  in  his  loyal  simplicity,  he  was  but  a  man  of 
straw  in  the  hands  of  skilful  knaves?  Have  you  for- 
gotten what  you  once  heard  the  Count  de  Villegre  say  ?  " 

Mile.  Gilberte  had  forgotten  nothing. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  159 

"  The  Count  de  Villgre,"  she  replied,  "  pretended  that 
it  was  time  enough  still  to  compel  the  men  who  had 
robbed  your  father  to  disgorge." 

"  Exactly !  "  exclaimed  Marius.  "  And  now  I  am  de- 
termined to  make  them  disgorge." 

In  the  mean  time  night  had  quite  come.  Lights  ap- 
peared in  the  shop-windows;  and  along  the  line  of  the 
Boulevard  the  gas-lamps  were  being  lit.  Alarmed  by 
this  sudden  illumination,  M.  de  Tregars  drew  off  Mile. 
Gilberte  to  a  more  obscure  spot,  by  the  stairs  that  lead 
to  the  Rue  Amelot ;  and  there,  leaning  against  the  iron 
railing,  he  went  on, — 

"  Already,  at  the  time  of  my  father's  death,  I  sus- 
pected the  abominable  tricks  of  which  he  was  the  victim. 
I  thought  it  unworthy  of  me  to  verify  my  suspicions.  I 
was  alone  in  the  world :  my  wants  were  few.  I  was  fully 
convinced  that  my  researches  would  give  me,  within  a 
brief  time,  a  much  larger  fortune  than  the  one  I  gave  up. 
I  found  something  noble  and  grand,  and  which  flattered 
my  vanity,  in  thus  abandoning  every  thing,  without  dis- 
cussion, without  litigation,  and  consummating  my  ruin 
with  a  single  dash  of  my  pen.  Among  my  friends  the 
Count  de  Villegre  alone  had  the  courage  to  tell  me  that 
this  was  a  guilty  piece  of  folly ;  that  the  silence  of  the 
dupes  is  the  strength  of  the  knaves ;  that  my  indifference, 
which  made  the  rascals  rich,  would  make  them  laugh 
too.  I  replied  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  the  name  of 
Tregars  dragged  into  court  in  a  scandalous  law-suit,  and 
that  to  preserve  a  dignified  silence  was  to  honor  my  fa- 
ther's memory.  Treble  fool  that  I  was !  The  only  way  to 
honor  my  father's  memory  was  to  avenge  him,  to  wrest 
his  spoils  from  the  scoundrels  who  had  caused  his  death. 
I  see  it  clearly  to-day.  But,  before  undertaking  any 
thing,  I  wished  to  consult  you." 


160  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Mile.  Gilberte  was  listening  with  the  most  intense  at- 
tention. She  had  come  to  mingle  so  completely  in  her 
thoughts  her  future  life  and  that  of  M.  de  Tregars,  that 
she  saw  nothing  unusual  in  the  fact  of  his  consulting  her 
upon  matters  affecting  their  prospects,  and  of  seeing 
herself  standing  there  deliberating  with  him. 

"  You  will  require  proofs,"  she  suggested. 

"  I  have  none,  unfortunately,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars ; 
"  at  least,  none  sufficiently  positive,  and  such  as  are  re- 
quired by  courts  of  justice.  But  I  think  I  may  find  them. 
My  former  suspicions  have  become  a  certainty.  The 
same  good  luck  that  enabled  me  to  deliver  you  of  M. 
Costeclar's  persecutions,  also  placed  in  my  hands  the 
most  valuable  information." 

"  Then  you  must  act,"  uttered  Mile.  Gilberte  reso- 
lutely. 

Marius  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  if  seeking  expres- 
sion to  convey  what  he  had  still  to  say.  Then, — 

"  It  is  my  duty,"  he  proceeded,  "  to  conceal  nothing 
from  you.  The  task  is  a  heavy  one.  The  obscure 
schemers  of  ten  years  ago  have  become  big  financiers, 
intrenched  behind  their  money-bags  as  behind  an  im- 
pregnable fort.  Formerly  isolated,  they  have  managed 
to  gather  around  them  powerful  interests,  accomplices 
high  in  office,  and  friends  whose  commanding  situation 
protects  them.  Having  succeeded,  they  are  absolved. 
They  have  in  their  favor  what  is  called  public  considera- 
tion,— that  idiotic  thing  which  is  made  up  of  the  ad- 
miration of  the  fools,  the  approbation  of  the  knaves,  and 
the  concert  of  all  interested  vanities.  'When  they  pass, 
their  horses  at  full  trot,  their  carriage  raising  a  cloud 
of  dust,  insolent,  impudent,  swelled  with  the  vulgar 
fatuity  of  wealth,  people  bow  to  the  ground,  and  say, 
'  Those  are  smart  fellows ! '  And  in  fact,  yes,  skill  or 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  161 

luck,  they  have  hitherto  avoided  the  police-courts  where 
so  many  others  have  come  to  grief.  Those  who  despise 
them  fear  them,  and  shake  hands  with  them.  More- 
over, they  are  rich  enough  not  to  steal  any  more  them- 
selves. They  have  employes  to  do  that.  I  take  Heaven 
to  witness  that  never  until  lately  had  the  idea  come  to  me 
to  disturb  in  their  possession  the  men  who  robbed  my 
father.  Alone,  what  need  had  I  of  money  ?  Later,  O  my 
friend !  I  thought  I  could  succeed  in  conquering  the 
fortune  I  needed  to  obtain  your  hand.  You  had  prom- 
ised to  wait;  and  I  was  happy  to  think  that  I  should 
owe  you  to  my  sole  exertions.  Events  have  crushed  my 
hopes.  I  am  to-day  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  all 
my  efforts  would  be  in  vain.  To  wait  would  be  to  run 
the  risk  of  losing  you.  Therefore  I  hesitate  no  longer. 
I  want  what's  mine:  I  wish  to  recover  that  of  which  I 
have  been  robbed.  Whatever  I  may  do, — for,  alas !  I 
know  not  to  what  I  may  be  driven,  what  role  I  may  have 
to  play, — remember  that  of  all  my  acts,  of  all  my 
thoughts,  there  will  not  be  a  single  one  that  does  not 
aim  to  bring  nearer  the  blessed  day  when  you  shall  be- 
come my  wife." 

There  was  in  his  voice  so  much  unspeakable  affection, 
that  the  young  girl  could  hardly  restrain  her  tears. 

"  Never,  whatever  may  happen,  shall  I  doubt  you, 
Marius,"  she  uttered. 

He  took  her  hands,  and,  pressing  them  passionately 
within  his, — 

"  And  I,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  swear,  that,  sustained  by 
the  thought  of  you,  there  is  no  disgust  that  I  will  not 
overcome,  no  obstacle  that  I  will  not  overthrow." 

He  spoke  so  loud,  that  two  or  three  persons  stopped. 
He  noticed  it,  and  was  brought  suddenly  from  sentiment 
to  the  reality, — 


162  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Wretches  that  we  are,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  and 
very  fast,  "  we  forget  what  this  interview  may  cost 
us!" 

And  he  led  Mile.  Gilberte  across  the  Boulevard ;  and, 
whilst  making  their  way  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  through 
the  deserted  streets, — 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  imprudence  we  have  just  commit- 
ted," resumed  M.  de  Tregars.  "  But  it  was  indispensa- 
ble that  we  should  see  each  other;  and  we  had  not  the 
choice  of  means.  Now,  and  for  a  long  time,  we  shall  be 
separated.  Every  thing  you  wish  me  to  know,  say  it  to 
that  worthy  Gismondo,  who  repeats  faithfully  to  me 
every  word  you  utter.  Through  him,  also,  you  shall 
hear  from  me.  Twice  a  week,  on  Tuesdays  and  Fri- 
days, about  nightfall,  I  shall  pass  by  your  house;  and, 
if  I  am  lucky  enough  to  have  a  glimpse  of  you,  I  shall 
return  home  fired  with  fresh  energy.  Should  any  thing 
extraordinary  happen,  beckon  to  me,  and  I'll  wait  for 
you  in  the  Rue  des  Minimes.  But  this  is  an  expedient 
to  which  we  must  only  resort  in  the  last  extremity.  I 
should  never  forgive  myself,  were  I  to  compromise  your 
fair  name." 

They  had  reached  the  Rue  St.  Gilles.  Marius  stopped. 

"  We  must  part,"  he  began. 

But  then  only  Mile.  Gilberte  remembered  M.  de  Tre- 
gars' letter,  which  she  had  in  her  pocket.  Taking  it  out, 
and  handing  it  to  him, — 

"  Here,"  she  said,  "  is  the  package  you  deposited  with 
me." 

"  No,"  he  answered,  repelling  her  gently,  "  keep  that 
letter :  it  must  never  be  opened  now,  except  by  the  Mar- 
quise de  Tregars." 

And  raising  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  in  a  deeply  agi- 
tated voice, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  163 

"  Farewell !  "   he  murmured.    "  Have  courage,  and 
have  hope." 


XXL 

MLLE.  GILBERTE  was  soon  far  away ;  and  Marius  de 
Tregars  remained  motionless  at  the  corner  of  the  street, 
following  her  with  his  eyes  through  the  darkness. 

She  was  walking  fast,  staggering  over  the  rough 
pavement.  Leaving  Marius,  she  fell  back  upon  the 
earth  from  the  height  of  her  dreams.  The  deceiving  illu- 
sion had  vanished,  and,  returned  to  the  world  of  sad  re- 
ality, she  was  seized  with  anxiety. 

How  long  had  she  been  out?  She  knew  not,  and 
found  it  impossible  to  reckon.  But  it  was  evidently 
getting  late;  for  some  of  the  shops  were  already 
closing. 

Meantime,  she  had  reached  the  house.  Stepping  back, 
and  looking  up,  she  saw  that  there  was  light  in  the  par- 
lor. 

"  Mother  has  returned,"  she  thought,  trembling  with 
apprehension. 

She  hurried  up,  nevertheless ;  and,  just  as  she  reached 
the  landing,  Mme.  Favoral  opened  the  door,  preparing 
to  go  down. 

"  At  last  you  are  restored  to  me !  "  exclaimed  the  poor 
mother,  whose  sinister  apprehensions  were  revealed  by 
that  single  exclamation.  "  I  was  going  out  to  look  for 
you  at  random, — in  the  streets,  anywhere." 

And,  drawing  her  daughter  within  the  parlor,  she 
clasped  her  in  her  arms  with  convulsive  tenderness,  ex- 
claiming,— 

"  Where  were  you  ?  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  Do 
you  know  that  it  is  after  nine  o'clock  ?  " 


164  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Such  had  been  Mile.  Gilberte's  state  of  mind  during 
the  whole  of  that  evening,  that  she  had  not  even  thought 
of  finding  a  pretext  to  justify  her  absence.  Now  it  was 
too  late.  Besides,  what  explanation  would  have  been 
plausible  ?  Instead,  therefore,  of  answering, — 

"  Why,  dear  mother,"  she  said  with  a  forced  smile, 
"  has  it  not  happened  to  me  twenty  times  to  go  out  in  the 
neighborhood  ?  " 

But  Mme.  Favoral's  confiding  credulity  existed  no 
longer. 

"  I  have  been  blind,  Gilberte,"  she  interrupted ;  "  but 
this  time  my  eyes  must  open  to  evidence.  There  is  in 
your  life  a  mystery,  something  extraordinary,  which  I 
dare  not  try  to  guess." 

Mile.  Gilberte  drew  herself  up,  and,  looking  her 
mother  straight  in  the  eyes,  with  her  beautiful,  clear 
glance, — 

"  Would  you  suspect  me  of  something  wrong,  then  ?  " 
she  exclaimed. 

Mme.  Favoral  stopped  her  with  a  gesture. 

"  A  young  girl  who  conceals  something  from  her 
mother  always  does  wrong,"  she  uttered.  "  It  is  a  long 
while  since  I  have  had  for  the  first  time  the  presentiment 
that  you  were  hiding  something  from  me.  But,  when  I 
questioned  you,  you  succeeded  in  quieting  my  suspi- 
cions. You  have  abused  my  confidence  and  my  weak- 
ness." 

This  reproach  was  the  most  cruel  that  could  be  ad- 
dressed to  Mile.  Gilberte.  The  blood  rushed  to  her 
face,  and,  in  a  firm  voice, — 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  she :  "  I  have  a  secret." 

"  Dear  me !  " 

"  And,  if  I  did  not  confide  it  to  you,  it  is  because  it  is 
also  the  secret  of  another.  Yes,  I  confess  it,  I  have  been 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  165 

imprudent  in  the  extreme;  I  have  stepped  beyond  all 
the  limits  of  propriety  and  social  custom;  I  have  ex- 
posed myself  to  the  worst  calumnies.  But  never, — I 
swear  it, — never  have  I  done  any  thing  of  which  my 
conscience  can  reproach  me,  nothing  that  I  have  to  blush 
for,  nothing  that  I  regret,  nothing  that  I  am  not  ready 
to  do  again  to-morrow." 

"Gilberte!" 

"  I  said  nothing,  'tis  true ;  but  it  was  my  duty.  Alone 
I  had  to  suffer  the  responsibility  of  my  acts.  Having 
alone  freely  engaged  my  future,  I  wished  to  bear  alone 
the  weight  of  my  anxiety.  I  should  never  have  forgiven 
myself  for  having  added  this  new  care  to  all  your  other 
sorrows." 

Mme.  Favoral  stood  dismayed.  Big  tears  rolled  down 
her  withered  cheeks. 

"  Don't  you  see,  then,"  she  stammered,  "  that  all  my 
past  suffering  is  as  nothing  compared  to  what  I  endure 
to-day?  Good  heavens!  what  have  I  ever  done  to  de- 
serve so  many  trials?  Am  I  to  be  spared  none  of  the 
troubles  of  this  world?  And  it  is  through  my  own 
daughter  that  I  am  the  most  cruelly  stricken !  " 

This  was  more  than  Mile.  Gilberte  could  bear.  Her 
heart  was  breaking  at  the  sight  of  her  mother's  tears, — 
that  angel  of  meekness  and  resignation.  Throwing  her 
arms  around  her  neck,  and  kissing  her  on  the  eyes, — 

"  Mother,"  she  murmured,  "  adored  mother,  I  beg 
of  you  do  not  weep  thus !  Speak  to  me !  What  do  you 
wish  me  to  do?  " 

Gently  the  poor  woman  drew  back. 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,"  she  answered. 

Was  it  not  certain  that  this  was  the  very  thing  she 
would  ask ;  in  fact,  the  only  thing  she  could  ask  ?  Ah  ! 
how  much  would  the  young  girl  have  preferred  one  of 


166  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

her  father's  violent  scenes,  and  brutalities  which  would 
have  exalted  her  energy,  instead  of  crushing  it ! 

Attempting  to  gain  time, — 

"  Well,  yes,"  she  answered,  "  I'll  tell  you  every  thing, 
mother,  but  not  now,  to-morrow,  later." 

She  was  about  to  yield,  however,  when  her  father's  ar- 
rival cut  short  their  conversation. 

The  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  was  quite  lively  that 
night.  He  was  humming  a  tune,  a  thing  which  did  not 
happen  to  him  four  times  a  year,  and  which  was  indica- 
tive of  the  most  extreme  satisfaction.  But  he  stopped 
short  at  the  sight  of  the  disturbed  countenance  of  his 
wife  and  daughter. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Nothing,"  hastily  answered  Mile.  Gilberte, — "  noth- 
ing at  all,  father." 

"  Then  you  are  crying  for  your  amusement,"  he  said. 
"  Come,  be  candid  for  once,  and  confess  that  Maxence 
has  been  at  his  tricks  again !  " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  father :  I  swear  it !  " 

He  asked  no  further  questions,  being  in  his  nature  not 
very  curious,  whether  because  family  matters  were  of  so 
little  consequence  to  him,  or  because  he  had  a  vague  idea 
that  his  general  behavior  deprived  him  of  all  right  to 
their  confidence. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  he  said  in  a  gruff  tone,  "  let  us  all 
go  to  bed.  I  have  worked  so  hard  to-day,  that  I  am 
quite  exhausted.  People  who  pretend  that  business  is 
dull  make  me  laugh.  Never  has  M.  de  Thaller  been  in 
the  way  of  making  so  much  money  as  now." 

When  he  spoke,  they  obeyed.  So  that  Mile.  Gilberte 
was  thus  going  to  have  the  whole  night  before  her  to  re- 
sume possession  of  herself,  to  pass  over  in  her  mind  the 
events  of  the  evening,  and  deliberate  coolly  upon  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  167 

decision  she  must  come  to;  for,  she  could  not  doubt  it, 
Mme.  Favoral  would,  the  very  next  day,  renew  her 
questions. 

What  should  she  say?  All?  Mile.  Gilberte  felt  dis- 
posed to  do  so  by  all  the  aspirations  of  her  heart,  by  the 
certainty  of  indulgent  complicity,  by  the  thought  of 
finding  in  a  sympathetic  soul  the  echo  of  her  joys,  of  her 
troubles,  and  of  her  hopes. 

Yes.  But  Mme.  Favoral  was  still  the  same  woman, 
whose  firmest  resolutions  vanished  under  the  gaze  of  her 
husband.  Let  a  pretender  come ;  let  a  struggle  begin,  as 
in  the  case  of  M.  Costeclar, — would  she  have  strength 
enough  to  remain  silent?  No! 

Then  it  would  be  a  fearful  scene  with  M.  Favoral.  He 
might,  perhaps,  even  go  to  M.  de  Tregars.  What  scan- 
dal !  For  he  was  a  man  who  spared  no  one ;  and  then  a 
new  obstacle  would  rise  between  them,  more  insur- 
mountable still  than  the  others. 

Mile.  Gilberte  was  thinking,  too,  of  Marius's  projects ; 
of  that  terrible  game  he  was  about  to  play,  the  issue  of 
which  was  to  decide  their  fate.  He  had  said  enough  to 
make  her  understand  all  its  perils,  and  that  a  single  in- 
discretion might  suffice  to  set  at  nought  the  result  of 
many  months'  labor  and  patience.  Besides,  to  speak, 
was  it  not  to  abuse  Marius's  confidence.  How  could 
she  expect  another  to  keep  a  secret  she  had  been  unable 
to  keep  herself? 

At  last,  after  protracted  and  painful  hesitation,  she 
decided  that  she  was  bound  to  silence,  and  that  she 
would  only  vouchsafe  the  vaguest  explanations. 

It  was  in  vain,  then,  that,  on  the  next  and  the  follow- 
ing days,  Mme.  Favoral  tried  to  obtain  that  confession 
which  she  had  seen,  as  it  were,  rise  to  her  daughter's 
lips.  To  her  passionate  adjurations,  to  her  tears,  to  her 


168     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ruses  even,  Mile.  Gilberte  invariably  opposed  equivocal 
answers,  a  story  through  which  nothing  could  be 
guessed,  save  one  of  those  childish  romances  which  stop 
at  the  preface, — a  schoolgirl  love  for  a  chimerical  hero. 

There  was  nothing  in  this  very  re-assuring  to  a 
mother ;  but  Mme.  Favoral  knew  her  daughter  too  well 
to  hope  to  conquer  her  invincible  obstinacy.  She  insisted 
no  more,  appeared  convinced,  but  resolved  to  exercise 
the  utmost  vigilance.  In  vain,  however,  did  she  display 
all  the  penetration  of  which  she  was  capable.  The  se- 
verest attention  did  not  reveal  to  her  a  single  suspicious 
fact,  not  a  circumstance  from  which  she  could  draw  an 
induction,  until,  at  last,  she  thought  that  she  must  have 
been  mistaken. 

The  fact  is,  that  Mile.  Gilberte  had  not  been  long  in 
feeling  herself  watched;  and  she  observed  herself  with 
a  tenacious  circumspection  that  could  hardly  have  been 
expected  of  her  resolute  and  impatient  nature.  She  had 
trained  herself  to  a  sort  of  cheerful  carelessness,  to 
which  she  strictly  adhered,  watching  every  expression  of 
her  countenance,  and  avoiding  carefully  those  hours  of 
vague  revery  in  which  she  formerly  indulged. 

For  two  successive  weeks,  fearing  to  be  betrayed  by 
her  looks,  she  had  the  courage  not  to  show  herself  at  the 
window  at  the  hour  when  she  knew  Marius  would  pass. 
Moreover,  she  was  very  minutely  informed  of  the  al- 
ternatives of  the  campaign  undertaken  by  M.  de  Tre- 
gars. 

More  enthusiastic  than  ever  about  his  pupil,  the  Sig- 
nor  Gismondo  Pulei  never  tired  of  singing  his  praise, 
and  with  such  pomp  of  expression,  and  so  curious  an 
exuberance  of  gesticulation,  that  Mme.  Favoral  was 
much  amused ;  and,  on  the  days  when  she  was  present  at 
her  daughter's  lesson,  she  was  the  first  to  inquire, — 


Pulei  never  tired  of  singing  his  praise  and  with  such  pomp 
of  expression  and  so  curious  an  exuberance  of  gesticula- 
tion. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  169 

"  Well,  how  is  that  famous  pupil  ?  " 

And,  according  to  what  Marius  had  told  him, — 

"  He  is  swimming  in  the  purest  satisfaction,"  an- 
swered the  candid  maestro.  "  Every  thing  succeeds  mi- 
raculously well,  and  much  beyond  his  hopes." 

Or  else,  knitting  his  brows, — 

"He  was  sad  yesterday,"  he  said,  "owing  to  an  un- 
expected disappointment;  but  he  does  not  lose  courage. 
We  shall  succeed." 

The  young  girl  could  not  help  smiling  to  see  her 
mother  assisting  thus  the  unconscious  complicity  of  the 
Signor  Gismondo.  Then  she  reproached  herself  for 
having  smiled,  and  for  having  thus  come,  through  a 
gradual  and  fatal  descent,  to  laugh  at  a  duplicity  at 
which  she  would  have  blushed  in  former  times.  In  spite 
of  herself,  however,  she  took  a  passionate  interest  in  the 
game  that  was  being  played  between  her  mother  and 
herself,  and  of  which  her  secret  was  the  stake.  It  was 
an  ever-palpitating  interest  in  her  hitherto  monotonous 
life,  and  a  source  of  constantly-renewed  emotions. 

The  days  became  weeks,  and  the  weeks  months ;  and 
Mme.  Favoral  relaxed  her  useless  surveillance,  and,  lit- 
tle by  little,  gave  it  up  almost  entirely.  She  still  thought, 
that,  at  a  certain  moment,  something  unusual  had  oc- 
curred to  her  daughter;  but  she  felt  persuaded,  that, 
whatever  that  was,  it  had  been  forgotten. 

So  that,  on  the  stated  days,  Mile.  Gilberte  could  go 
and  lean  upon  the  window,  without  fear  of  being  called 
to  account  for  the  emotion  which  she  felt  when  M.  de 
Tregars  appeared.  At  the  expected  hour,  invariably, 
and  with  a  punctuality  to  shame  M.  Favoral  himself,  he 
turned  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Turenne,  exchanged  a 
rapid  glance  with  the  young  girl,  and  passed  on. 

His  health  was  completely  restored;  and  with  it  he 


170  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

had  recovered  that  graceful  virility  which  results  from 
the  perfect  blending  of  suppleness  and  strength.  But  he 
no  longer  wore  the  plain  garments  of  former  days.  He 
was  dressed  now  with  that  elegant  simplicity  which  re- 
veals at  first  sight  that  rarest  of  objects, — a  "  perfect 
gentleman."  And,  whilst  she  accompanied  him  with  her 
eyes  as  he  walked  towards  the  Boulevard,  she  felt 
thoughts  of  joy  and  pride  rising  from  the  bottom  of  her 
soul. 

"  Who  would  ever  imagine,"  thought  she,  "  that  this 
young  gentleman  walking  away  yonder  is  my  affianced 
husband,  and  that  the  day  is  perhaps  not  far,  when,  hav- 
ing become  his  wife,  I  shall  lean  upon  his  arm?  Who 
would  think  that  all  my  thoughts  belong  to  him,  that  it 
is  for  my  sake  that  he  has  given  up  the  ambition  of  his 
life,  and  is  now  prosecuting  another  object?  Who  would 
suspect  that  it  is  for  Gilberte  Favoral's  sake  that  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars  is  walking  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  ?  " 

And,  indeed,  Marius  did  deserve  some  credit  for 
these  walks ;  for  winter  had  come,  spreading  a  thick  coat 
of  mud  over  the  pavement  of  all  those  little  streets  which 
are  always  forgotten  by  the  street-cleaners. 

The  cashier's  home  had  resumed  its  habits  of  before 
the  war,  its  drowsy  monotony  scarcely  disturbed  by  the 
Saturday  dinner,  by  M.  Desclavette's  naivetes  or  old 
Desormeaux's  puns. 

Maxence,  in  the  mean  time,  had  ceased  to  live  with  his 
parents.  He  had  returned  to  Paris  immediately  after  the 
Commune ;  and,  feeling  no  longer  in  the  humor  to  sub- 
mit to  the  paternal  despotism,  he  had  taken  a  small 
apartment  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple;  but,  at  the 
pressing  instance,  of  his  mother,  he  had  consented  to 
come  every  night  to  dine  at  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 

Faithful  to  his  oath,  he  was  working  hard,  though 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  171 

without  getting  on  very  fast.  The  moment  was  far 
from  propitious ;  and  the  occasion,  which  he  had  so  often 
allowed  to  escape,  did  not  offer  itself  again.  For  lack 
of  any  thing  better,  he  had  kept  his  clerkship  at  the  rail- 
way ;  and,  as  two  hundred  francs  a  month  were  not  quite 
sufficient  for  his  wants,  .he  spent  a  portion  of  his  nights 
copying  documents  for  M.  Chapelain's  successor. 

"  What  do  you  need  so  much  money  for  ?  "  his  mother 
said  to  him  when  she  noticed  his  eyes  a  little  red. 

"  Every  thing  is  so  dear !  "  he  answered  with  a  smile, 
which  was  equivalent  to  a  confidence,  and  yet  which 
Mme.  Favoral  did  not  understand. 

He  had,  nevertheless,  managed  to  pay  all  his  debts, 
little  by  little.  The  day  when,  at  last,  he  held  in  his 
hand  the  last  receipted  bill,  he  showed  it  proudly  to  his 
father,  begging  him  to  find  him  a  place  at  the  Mutual 
Credit,  where,  with  infinitely  less  trouble,  he  could  earn 
so  much  more. 

M.  Favoral  commenced  to  giggle. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool,  like  your  mother  ?  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  And  do  you  think  I  don't  know  what  life 
you  lead  ?  " 

"  My  life  is  that  of  a  poor  devil  who  works  as  hard 
as  he  can." 

"  Indeed !  How  is  it,  then,  that  women  are  con- 
stantly seen  at  your  house,  whose  dresses  and  manners 
are  a  scandal  in  the  neighborhood  ?  " 

"  You  have  been  deceived,  father." 

"  I  have  seen." 

"  It  is  impossible.   Let  me  explain." 

*'  No,  you  would  have  your  trouble  for  nothing.  You 
are,  and  you  will  ever  remain,  the  same ;  and  it  would  be 
folly  on  my  part  to  introduce  into  an  office  where  I  en- 
joy the  esteem  of  all,  a  fellow,  who,  some  day  or  other, 


172  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

will  be  fatally  dragged  into  the  mud  by  some  lost 
creature." 

Such  discussions  were  not  calculated  to  make  the  re- 
lations between  father  and  son  more  cordial.  Several 
times  M.  Favoral  had  insinuated,  that,  since  Maxence 
lodged  away  from  home,  he  might  as  well  dine  away 
too.  And  he  would  evidently  have  notified  him  to  do  so, 
had  he  not  been  prevented  by  a  remnant  of  human  re- 
spect, and  the  fear  of  gossip. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  bitter  regret  of  having,  per- 
haps, spoiled  his  life,  the  uncertainty  of  the  future,  the 
penury  of  the  moment,  all  the  unsatisfied  desires  of 
youth,  kept  Maxence  in  a  state  of  perpetual  irritation. 

The  excellent  Mme.  Favoral  exhausted  all  her  argu- 
ments to  quiet  him. 

"  Your  father  is  harsh  for  us,"  she  said ;  "  but  is  he 
less  harsh  for  himself?  He  forgives  nothing;  but  he 
has  never  needed  to  be  forgiven  himself.  He  does  not 
understand  youth,  but  he  has  never  been  young  himself ; 
and  at  twenty  he  was  as  grave  and  as  cold  as  you  see 
him  now.  How  could  he  know  what  pleasure  is? — he 
to  whom  the  idea  has  never  come  to  take  an  hour's  en- 
joyment." 

"  Have  I,  then,  been  guilty  of  any  crimes,  to  be  thus 
treated  by  my  father  ? "  exclaimed  Maxence,  flushed 
with  anger.  "  Our  existence  here  is  an  unheard-of 
thing.  You,  poor,  dear  mother! — you  have  never  had 
the  free  disposition  of  a  five-franc-piece.  Gilberte  spends 
her  days  turning  her  dresses,  after  having  had  them 
dyed.  I  am  driven  to  a  petty  clerkship.  And  my  father 
has  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year !  " 

Such,  indeed,  was  the  figure  at  which  the  most  mod- 
erate estimated  M.  Favoral's  fortune.  M.  Chapelain, 
who  was  supposed  to  be  well  informed,  insinuated  freely 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  173 

that  his  friend  Vincent,  besides  being  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit,  must  also  be  one  of  its  principal  stock- 
holders. Now,  judging  from  the  dividend  which  had 
just  been  paid,  the  Mutual  Credit  must,  since  the  war, 
have  realized  enormous  profits.  All  its  enterprises  were 
successful ;  and  it  was  on  the  point  of  negotiating  a  for- 
eign loan  which  would  infallibly  fill  its  exchequer  to 
overflowing. 

M.  Favoral,  moreover,  defended  himself  feebly  from 
these  accusations  of  concealed  opulence.  When  M.  Des- 
ormeaux  told  him,  "  Come,  now,  between  us,  candidly, 
how  many  millions  have  you  ?  "  he  had  such  a  strange 
way  of  affirming  that  people  were  very  much  mistaken, 
that  his  friends'  convictions  became  only  the  more  set- 
tled. And,  as  soon  as  they  had  a  few  thousand  francs 
of  savings,  they  promptly  brought  them  to  him,  imitated 
in  this  by  a  goodly  number  of  the  small  capitalists  of  the 
neighborhood,  who  were  wont  to  remark  among  them- 
selves,— 

"  That  man  is  safer  than  the  bank !  " 

Millionaire  or  otherwise,  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  became  daily  more  difficult  to  live  with.  If 
strangers,  those  who  had  with  him  but  a  superficial  in- 
tercourse, if  the  Saturday  guests  themselves,  discovered 
in  him  no  appreciable  change,  his  wife  and  his  children 
followed  with  anxious  surprise  the  modifications  of  his 
humor. 

If  outwardly  he  still  appeared  the  same  impassible, 
precise,  and  grave  man,  he  showed  himself  at  home  more 
fretful  than  an  old  maid, — nervous,  agitated,  and  sub- 
ject to  the  oddest  whims. 

After  remaining  three  or  four  days  without  opening 
his  lips,  he  would  begin  to  speak  upon  all  sorts  of  sub- 
jects with  amazing  volubility.  Instead  of  watering  his 


174  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

wine  freely,  as  formerly,  he  had  begun  to  drink  it  pure ; 
and  he  often  took  two  bottles  at  his  meal,  excusing  him- 
self upon  the  necessity  that  he  felt  the  need  of  stimu- 
lating himself  a  little  after  his  excessive  labors. 

Then  he  would  be  taken  with  fits  of  coarse  gayety; 
and  he  related  singular  anecdotes,  intermingled  with 
slang  expressions,  which  Maxence  alone  could  under- 
stand. 

On  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  January,  1872,  as 
he  sat  down  to  breakfast,  he  threw  upon  the  table  a  roll 
of  fifty  napoleons,  saying  to  his  children, — 

"  Here  is  your  New  Year's  gift !  Divide,  and  buy 
any  thing  you  like." 

And  as  they  were  looking  at  him,  staring,  stupid  with 
astonishment, — 

"  Well,  what  of  it?  "  he  added  with  an  oath.  "  Isn't 
it  well,  once  in  a  while,  to  scatter  the  coins  a  little  ?  " 

Those  unexpected  thousand  francs  Maxence  and 
Mile.  Gilberte  applied  to  the  purchase  of  a  shawl,  which 
their  mother  had  wished  for  for  ten  years. 

She  laughed  and  she  cried  with  pleasure  and  emo- 
tion, the  poor  woman;  and,  whilst  draping  it  over  her 
shoulders, — 

"  Well,  well,  my  dear  children,"  she  said :  "  your 
father,  after  all,  is  not  such  a  bad  man." 

Of  which  they  did  not  seem  very  well  convinced. 

"  One  thing  is  sure,"  remarked  Mile.  Gilberte :  "  to 
permit  himself  such  liberality,  papa  must  be  awfully 
rich." 

M.  Favoral  was  not  present  at  this  scene.  The  yearly 
accounts  kept  him  so  closely  confined  to  his  office,  that 
he  remained  forty-eight  hours  without  coming  1  ome.  A 
journey  which  he  was  compelled  to  undertake  for  M. 
de  Thaller  consumed  the  balance  of  the  week. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  175 

But  on  his  return  he  seemed  satisfied  and  quiet.  With- 
out giving  up  his  situation  at  the  Mutual  Credit,  he  was 
about,  he  stated,  to  associate  himself  with  the  Messrs. 
Jottras,  M.  Saint  Pavin  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot,"  and 
M.  Costeclar,  to  undertake  the  construction  of  a  foreign 
railway. 

M.  Costeclar  was  at  the  head  of  this  enterprise,  the 
enormous  profits  of  which  were  so  certain  and  so  clear, 
that  they  could  be  figured  in  advance. 

And  whilst  on  this  same  subject, — 

"  You  were  very  wrong,"  he  said  to  Mile.  Gilberte, 
"  not  to  make  haste  and  marry  Costeclar  when  he  was 
willing  to  have  you.  You  will  never  find  another  such 
match, — a  man  who,  before  ten  years,  will  be  a  financial 
power." 

The  very  name  of  M.  Costeclar  had  the  effect  of  irri- 
tating the  young  girl. 

"  I  thought  you  had  fallen  out  ? "  she  said  to  her 
father. 

"  So  we  had,"  he  replied  with  some  embarrassment, 
"  because  he  has  never  been  willing  to  tell  me  why  he 
had  withdrawn ;  but  people  always  make  up  again  when 
they  have  interests  in  common." 

Formerly,  before  the  war,  M.  Favoral  would  certainly 
never  have  condescended  to  enter  into  all  these  details. 
But  he  was  becoming  almost  communicative.  Mile.  Gil- 
berte, who  was  observing  him  with  interested  attention, 
fancied  she  could  see  that  he  was  yielding  to  that  ne- 
cessity of  expansion,  more  powerful  than  the  will  itself, 
which  besets  the  man  who  carries  within  him  a  weighty 
secret. 

Whilst  for  twenty  years  he  had,  so  to  speak,  never 
breathed  a  word  on  the  subject  of  the  Thaller  family, 
now  he  was  continually  speaking  of  them.  He  told  his 


i?6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Saturday  friends  all  about  the  princely  style  of  the 
baron,  the  number  of  his  servants  and  horses,  the  color 
of  his  liveries,  the  parties  that  he  gave,  what  he  spent 
for  pictures  and  objects  of  art,  and  even  the  very  names 
of  his  mistresses ;  for  the  baron  had  too  much  respect  for 
himself  not  to  lay  every  year  a  few  thousand  napoleons 
at  the  feet  of  some  young  lady  sufficiently  conspicuous 
to  be  mentioned  in  the  society  newspapers. 

M.  Favoral  confessed  that  he  did  not  approve  the 
baron;  but  it  was  with  a  sort  of  bitter  hatred  that  he 
spoke  of  the  baroness.  It  was  impossible,  he  affirmed 
to  his  guests,  to  estimate  even  approximately  the  fabu- 
lous sums  squandered  by  her,  scattered,  thrown  to  the 
four  winds.  For  she  was  not  prodigal,  she  was  prodi- 
gality itseff, — that  idiotic,  absurd,  unconscious  prodi- 
gality which  melts  a  fortune  in  a  turn  of  the  hand; 
which  cannot  even  obtain  from  money  the  satisfaction 
of  a  want,  a  wish,  or  a  fancy. 

He  said  incredible  things  of  her, — things  which  made 
Mme.  Desclavettes  jump  upon  her  seat,  explaining  that 
he  learned  all  these  details  from  M.  de  Thaller,  who  had 
often  commissioned  him  to  pay  his  wife's  debts,  and 
also  from  the  baroness  herself,  who  did  not  hesitate  to 
call  sometimes  at  the  office  for  twenty  francs ;  for  such 
was  her  want  of  order,  that,  after  borrowing  all  the 
savings  of  her  servants,  she  frequently  had  not  two  cents 
to  throw  to  a  beggar. 

Neither  did  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  seem 
to  have  a  very  good  opinion  of  Mademoiselle  de  Thaller. 

Brought  up  at  hap-hazard,  in  the  kitchen  much  more 
than  in  the  parlor,  until  she  was  twelve,  and,  later, 
dragged  by  her  mother  anywhere, — to  the  races,  to  the 
first  representations,  to  the  watering-places,  always  es- 
corted by  a  squadron  of  the  young  men  of  the  bourse, 


177 

Mile,  de  Thaller  had  adopted  a  style  which  would  have 
been  deemed  detestable  in  a  man.  As  soon  as  some  ques- 
tionable fashion  appeared,  she  appropriated  it  at  once, 
never  finding  any  thing  eccentric  enough  to  make  her- 
self conspicuous.  She  rode  on  horseback,  fenced,  fre- 
quented pigeon-shooting  matches,  spoke  slang,  sang 
Theresa's  songs,  emptied  neatly  her  glass  of  champagne, 
and  smoked  her  cigarette. 

The  guests  were  struck  dumb  with  astonishment. 

"  But  those  people  must  spend  millions !  "  interrupted 
M.  Chapelain. 

M.  Favoral  started  as  if  he  had  been  slapped  on  the 
back. 

"  Bash !  "  he  answered.  "  They  are  so  rich,  so  awfully 
rich !  " 

He  changed  the  conversation  that  evening ;  but  on  the 
following  Saturday,  from  the  very  beginning  of  the  din- 
ner,— 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  M.  de  Thaller  has  just  dis- 
covered a  husband  for  his  daughter." 

"  My  compliments ! "  exclaimed  M.  Desormeaux. 
"  And  who  may  this  bold  fellow  be  ?  " 

"  A  nobleman,  of  course,"  he  replied.  "  Isn't  that  the 
tradition?  As  soon  as  a  financier  has  made  his  little 
million,  he  starts  in  quest  of  a  nobleman  to  give  him 
his  daughter." 

One  of  those  painful  presentiments,  such  as  arise  in 
the  inmost  recesses  of  the  soul,  made  Mile.  Gilberte  turn 
pale.  This  presentiment  suggested  to  her  an  absurd,  ri- 
diculous, unlikely  thing;  and  yet  she  was  sure  that  it 
would  not  deceive  her, — so  sure,  indeed,  that  she  rose 
under  the  pretext  of  looking  for  something  in  the  side- 
board, but  in  reality  to  conceal  the  terrible  emotion 
which  she  anticipated. 


178  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

''  And  this  gentleman  ?  "  inquired  M.  Chapelain. 

"  Is  a  marquis,  if  you  please, — the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gars." 

Well,  yes,  it  was  this  very  name  that  Mile.  Gilberte 
was  expecting,  and  well  that  she  did ;  for  she  was  thus 
able  to  command  enough  control  over  herself  to  check 
the  cry  that  rose  to  her  throat. 

"  But  this  marriage  is  not  made  yet,"  pursued  M. 
Favoral.  "  This  marquis  is  not  yet  so  completely  ruined, 
that  he  can  be  made  to  do  any  thing  they  please.  Sure, 
the  baroness  has  set  her  heart  upon  it,  oh !  but  with  all 
her  might !  " 

A  discussion  which  now  arose  prevented  Gilberte 
from  learning  any  more;  and  as  soon  as  the  dinner, 
which  seemed  eternal  to  her,  was  over,  she  complained 
of  a  violent  headache,  and  withdrew  to  her  room. 

She  shook  with  fever ;  her  teeth  chattered.  And  yet 
she  could  not  believe  that  Marius  was  betraying  her,  nor 
that  he  could  have  the  thought  of  marrying  such  a  girl 
as  M.  Favoral  had  described,  and  for  money  too !  Poor, 
ah!  No,  that  was  not  admissible.  Although  she  re- 
membered well  that  Marius  had  made  her  swear  to  be- 
lieve nothing  that  might  be  said  of  him,  she  spent  a  hor- 
rible Sunday,  and  she  felt  like  throwing  herself  in  the 
Signer  Gismondo's  arms,  when,  in  giving  her  his  les- 
son the  following  Monday, — 

*'  My  poor  pupil,"  he  said,  "  feels  miserable.  A  mar- 
riage has  been  spoken  of  for  him,  for  which  he  has  a 
perfect  horror;  and  he  trembles  lest  the  rumor  may 
reach  his  intended,  whom  he  loves  exclusively." 

Mile.  Gilberte  felt  re-assured  after  that.  And  yet 
there  remained  in  her  heart  an  invincible  sadness.  She 
could  hardly  doubt  that  this  matrimonial  scheme  was 
a  part  of  the  plan  planned  by  Marius  to  recover  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  179 

fortune.  But  why,  then,  had  he  applied  to  M.  de  Thal- 
ler? Who  could  be  the  man  who  had  despoiled  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars? 

Such  were  the  thoughts  which  occupied  her  mind  on 
that  Saturday  evening  when  the  commissary  of  police 
presented  himself  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  to  arrest  M. 
Favoral,  charged  with  embezzling  ten  or  twelve  mil- 
lions. 


XXII. 

THE  hour  had  now  come  for  the  denouement  of  that 
home  tragedy  which  was  being  enacted  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles. 

The  reader  will  remember  the  incidents  narrated  at 
the  beginning  of  this  story, — M.  de  Thaller's  visit  and 
angry  words  with  M.  Favoral,  his  departure  after  leav- 
ing a  package  of  bank-notes  in  Mile.  Gilberte's  hands, 
the  advent  of  the  commissary  of  police,  M.  Favoral's 
escape,  and  finally  the  departure  of  the  Saturday  even- 
ing guests. 

The  disaster  which  struck  Mme.  Favoral  and  her 
children  had  been  so  sudden  and  so  crushing,  that  they 
had  been,  on  the  moment,  too  stupefied  to  realize  it. 
What  had  happened  went  so  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  probable,  of  the  possible  even,  that  they  could  not 
believe  it.  The  too  cruel  scenes  which  had  just  taken 
place  were  to  them  like  the  absurd  incidents  of  a  hor- 
rible nightmare. 

But  when  their  guests  had  retired  after  a  few  com- 
monplace protestations,  when  they  found  themselves 
alone,  all  three,  in  that  house  whose  master  had  just 
fled,  tracked  by  the  police, — then  only,  as  the  disturbed 
equilibrium  of  their  minds  became  somewhat  restored, 


180  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

did  they  fully  realize  the  extent  of  the  disaster,  and  the 
horror  of  the  situation. 

Whilst  Mme.  Favoral  lay  apparently  lifeless  on  an 
arm-chair,  Gilberte  kneeling  at  her  feet,  Maxence  was 
walking  up  and  down  the  parlor  with  furious  steps.  He 
was  whiter  than  the  plaster  on  the  walls;  and  a  cold 
perspiration  glued  his  tangled  hair  to  his  temples. 

His  eyes  glistening,  and  his  fists  clinched, — 

"  Our  father  a  thief !  "  he  kept  repeating  in  a  hoarse 
voice,  "  a  forger !  " 

And  in  fact  never  had  the  slightest  suspicion  arisen  in 
his  mind.  In  these  days  of  doubtful  reputations,  he 
had  been  proud  indeed  of  M.  Favoral's  reputation  of 
austere  integrity.  And  he  had  endured  many  a  cruel 
reproach,  saying  to  himself  that  his  father  had,  by  his 
own  spotless  conduct,  acquired  the  right  to  be  harsh  and 
exacting. 

"  And  he  has  stolen  twelve  millions !  "  he  exclaimed. 

And  he  went  on,  trying  to  calculatae  all  the  luxury 
and  splendor  which  such  a  sum  represents,  all  the  crav- 
ings gratified,  all  the  dreams  realized,  all  it  can  pro- 
cure of  things  that  may  be  bought.  And  what  things 
are  not  for  sale  for  twelve  millions  I 

Then  he  examined  the  gloomy  home  in  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles, — the  contracted  dwelling,  the  faded  furniture, 
the  prodigies  of  a  parsimonious  industry,  his  mother's 
privations,  his  sister's  penury,  and  his  own  distress. 
And  he  exclaimed  again, — 

"  It  is  a  monstrous  infamy !  " 

The  words  of  the  commissary  of  police  had  opened 
his  eyes ;  and  he  now  fancied  the  most  wonderful  things. 
M.  Favoral,  in  his  mind,  assumed  fabulous  proportions. 
By  what  miracles  of  hypocrisy  and  dissimulation  had 
he  succeeded  in  making  himself  ubiquitous  as  it  were, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  181 

and,  without  awaking  a  suspicion,  living  two  lives  so 
distinct  and  so  different, — here,  in  the  midst  of  his  fam- 
ily, parsimonious,  methodic,  and  severe;  elsewhere,  in 
some  illicit  household,  doubtless  facile,  smiling,  and 
generous,  like  a  successful  thief. 

For  Maxence  considered  the  bills  found  in  the  secre- 
tary as  a  flagrant,  irrefutable  and  material  proof. 

Upon  the  brink  of  that  abyss  of  shame  into  which 
his  father  had  just  tumbled,  he  thought  he  could  see, 
not  the  inevitable  woman,  that  incentive  of  all  human 
actions,  but  the  entire  legion  of  those  bewitching  cour- 
tesans who  possess  unknown  crucibles  wherein  to  swell 
fortunes,  and  who  have  secret  filters  to  stupefy  their 
dupes,  and  strip  them  of  their  honor,  after  robbing  them 
of  their  last  cent. 

"  And  I,"  said  Maxence, — "  I,  because  at  twenty  I 
was  fond  of  pleasure,  I  was  called  a  bad  son !  Because 
I  had  made  some  three  hundred  francs  of  debts,  I  was 
deemed  a  swindler!  Because  I  love  a  poor  girl  who 
has  for  me  the  most  disinterested  affection,  I  am  one 
of  those  rascals  whom  their  family  disown,  and  from 
whom  nothing  can  be  expected  but  shame  and  dis- 
grace !  " 

He  filled  the  parlor  with  the  sound  of  his  voice, 
which  rose  like  his  wrath. 

And  at  the  thought  of  all  the  bitter  reproaches  which 
had  been  addressed  to  him  by  his  father,  and  of  all  the 
humiliations  that  had  been  heaped  upon  him, — 

"  Ah,  the  wretch !  "  he  fairly  shrieked,  "  the  cow- 
ard!" 

As  pale  as  her  brother,  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  and 
her  beautiful  hair  hanging  undone,  Mile.  Gilberte  drew 
herself  up. 

"  He  is  our  father,  Maxence,"  she  said  gently. 


182  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

But  he  interrupted  her  with  a  wild  burst  of  laughter. 

"  True,"  he  answered ;  "  and,  by  virtue  of  the  law 
which  is  written  in  the  code,  we  owe  him  affection  and 
respect." 

"  Maxence !."  murmured  the  girl  in  a  beseeching  tone. 

But  he  went  on,  nevertheless, — 

"  Yes,  he  is  our  father,  unfortunately.  But  I  should 
like  to  know  his  titles  to  our  respect  and  our  affection. 
After  making  our  mother  the  most  miserable  of  crea- 
tures, he  has  imbittered  our  existence,  withered  our 
youth,  ruined  my  future,  and  done  his  best  to  spoil  yours 
by  compelling  you  to  marry  Costeclar.  And,  to  crown 
all  these  deeds  of  kindness,  he  runs  away  now,  after 
stealing  twelve  millions,  leaving  us  nothing  but  misery 
and  a  disgraced  name. 

"  And  yet,"  he  added,  "  is  it  possible  that  a  cashier 
should  take  twelve  millions,  and  his  employer  know 
nothing  of  it?  And  is  our  father  really  the  only  man 
who  benefited  by  these  millions  ?  " 

Then  came  back  to  the  mind  of  Maxence  and  Mile. 
Gilberte  the  last  words  of  their  father  at  the  moment 
of  his  flight, — 

"  I  have  been  betrayed ;  and  I  must  suffer  for 
all!" 

And  his  sincerity  could  hardly  be  called  in  question ; 
for  he  was  then  in  one  of  those  moments  of  decisive 
crisis  in  which  the  truth  forces  itself  out  in  spite  of  all 
calculation. 

"  He  must  have  accomplices  then,"  murmured  Max- 
ence. 

Although  he  had  spoken  very  low,  Mme.  Favoral 
overheard  him.  To  defend  her  husband,  she  found  a 
remnant  of  energy,  and,  straightening  herself  on  her 
seat, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  183 

"  Ah !  do  not  doubt  it,"  she  stammered  out.  "  Of 
his  own  inspiration,  Vincent  could  never  have  com- 
mitted an  evil  act.  He  has  been  circumvented,  led 
away,  duped !  " 

"  Very  well ;  but  by  whom  ?  " 

"  By  Costeclar,"  affirmed  Mile.  Gilberte. 

"  By  the  Messrs.  Jottras,  the  bankers,"  said  Mme. 
Favoral,  "  and  also  by  M.  Saint  Pavin,  the  editor  of 
'  the  Financial  Pilot.'  " 

"  By  all  of  them,  evidently,"  interrupted  Maxence, 
"  even  by  his  manager,  M.  de  Thaller." 

When  a  man  is  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice,  what 
is  the  use  of  finding  out  how  he  has  got  there, — whether 
by  stumbling  over  a  stone,  or  slipping  on  a  tuft  of 
grass !  And  yet  it  is  always  our  foremost  thought.  It 
was  with  an  eager  obstinacy  that  Mme.  Favoral  and  her 
children  ascended  the  course  of  their  existence,  seek- 
ing in  the  past  the  incidents  and  the  merest  words  which 
might  throw  some  light  upon  their  disaster;  for  it  was 
quite  manifest  that  it  was  not  in  one  day  and  at  the 
same  time  that  tw.elve  millions  had  been  subtracted  from 
the  Mutual  Credit.  This  enormous  deficit  must  have 
been,  as  usual,  made  gradually,  with  infinite  caution  at 
first,  whilst  there  was  a  desire,  and  some  hope,  to  make 
it  good  again,  then  with  mad  recklessness  towards  the 
end  when  the  catastrophe  had  become  inevitable. 

"  Alas !  "  murmured  Mme.  Favoral,  "  why  did  not 
Vincent  listen  to  my  presentiments  on  that  ever  fatal 
day  when  he  brought  M.  de  Thaller,  M.  Jottras.  and  M. 
Saint  Pavin  to  dine  here?  They  promised  him  a  for- 
tune." 

Maxence  and  Mile.  Gilberte  were  too  young  at  the 
time  of  that  dinner  to  have  preserved  any  remem- 
brance of  it ;  but  they  remembered  many  other  circum- 


184  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

stances,  which,  at  the  time  they  had  taken  place,  had  not 
struck  them.  They  understood  now  the  temper  of  their 
father,  his  perpetual  irritation,  and  the  spasms  of  his 
humor.  When  his  friends  were  heaping  insults  upon 
him,  he  had  exclaimed, — 

"  Be  it  so !  let  them  arrest  me ;  and  to-night,  for  the 
first  time  in  many  years,  I  shall  sleep  in  peace." 

There  were  years,  then,  that  he  lived,  as  it  were  upon 
burning  coals,  trembling  at  the  fear  of  discovery,  and 
wondering,  as  he  went  to  sleep  each  night,  whether  he 
would  not  be  awakened  by  the  rude  hand  of  the  police 
tapping  him  on  the  shoulder.  No  one  better  than  Mme. 
Favoral  could  affirm  it. 

"  Your  father,  my  children,"  she  said,  "  had  long  since 
lost  his  sleep.  There  was  hardly  ever  a  night  that  he 
did  not  get  up  and  walk  the  room  for  hours." 

They  understood,  now,  his  efforts  to  compel  Mile. 
Gilberte  to  marry  M.  Costeclar. 

"  He  thought  that  Costeclar  would  help  him  out  of 
the  scrape,"  suggested  Maxence  to  his  sister. 

The  poor  girl  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  she  could 
not  help  feeling  thankful  to  her  father  for  not  having 
told  her  his  situation ;  for  would  she  have  had  the  sub- 
lime courage  to  refuse  the  sacrifice,  if  her  father  had  told 
her?  — 

"  I  have  stolen !  I  am  lost !  Costeclar  alone  can  save 
me ;  and  he  will  save  me  if  you  become  his  wife." 

M.  Favoral's  pleasant  behavior  during  the  siege  was 
quite  natural.  Then  he  had  no  fears;  and  one  could 
understand  how  in  the  most  critical  hours  of  the  Com- 
mune, when  Paris  was  in  flames,  he  could  have  ex- 
claimed almost  cheerfully, — 

"  Ah !  this  time  it  is  indeed  the  final  liquidation." 

Doubtless,  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  he  wished 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  185 

that  Paris  might  be  destroyed,  and,  with  it,  the  evi- 
dences of  his  crime.  And  perhaps  he  was  not  the  only 
one  to  form  that  impious  wish. 

"  That's  why,  then,"  exclaimed  Maxence, — "  that's 
why  my  father  treated  me  so  rudely:  that's  why  he  so 
obstinately  persisted  in  closing  the  offices  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  against  me." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the  door- 
bell. He  looked  at  the  clock :  ten  o'clock  was  about  to 
strike. 

"  Who  can  call  so  late  ?  "  said  Mme.  Favoral. 

Something  like  a  discussion  was  heard  in  the  hall, — a 
voice  hoarse  with  anger,  and  the  servant's  voice. 

"  Go  and  see  who's  there/'  said  Gilberte  to  her 
brother. 

It  was  useless ;  the  servant  appeared. 

"  It's  M.  Bertan,"  she  commenced,  "  the  baker  " — 

He  had  followed  her,  and,  pushing  her  aside  with  his 
robust  arm,  he  appeared  himself.  He  was  a  man  about 
forty  years  of  age,  tall,  thin,  already  bald,  and  wearing 
his  beard  trimmed  close. 

"  M.  Favoral  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  My  father  is  not  at  home,"  replied  Maxence. 

"  It's  true,  then,  what  I  have  just  been  told?  " 

"What?" 

"  That  the  police  came  to  arrest  him,  and  he  escaped 
through  a  window." 

"  It's  true,"  replied  Maxence  gently. 

The  baker  seemed  prostrated. 

"  And  my  money  ?  "  he  asked. 

"What  money?" 

"  Why,  my  ten  thousand  francs !  Ten  thousand 
francs  which  I  brought  to  M.  Favoral,  in  gold,  you 
hear  ?  in  ten  rolls,  which  I  placed  there,  on  that  very  ta- 


186  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ble,  and  for  which  he  gave  me  a  receipt.  Here  it  is, — 
his  receipt." 

He  held  out  a  paper ;  but  Maxence  did  not  take  it. 

"  I  do  not  doubt  your  word,  sir,"  he  replied ;  "  but 
my  father's  business  is  not  ours." 

"  You  refuse  to  give  me  back  my  money  ?  " 

"  Neither  my  mother,  my  sister,  nor  myself,  have  any 
thing." 

The  blood  rushed  to  the  man's  face,  and,  with  a 
tongue  made  thick  by  anger, — 

"  And  you  think  you  are  going  to  pay  me  off  in  that 
way  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  have  nothing !  Poor  little 
fellow.!  And  will  you  tell  me,  then,  what  has  become 
of  the  twenty  millions  your  father  has  stolen?  for  he 
has  stolen  twenty  millions.  I  know  it :  I  have  been  told 
so.  Where  are  they  ?  " 

"  The  police,  sir,  has  placed  the  seals  over  my  father's 
papers." 

"  The  police  ?  "  interrupted  the  baker,  "  the  seals  ? 
What  do  I  care  for  that?  It's  my  money  I  want:  do 
you  hear?  Justice  is  going  to  take  a  hand  in  it,  is 
it  ?  Arrest  your  father,  try  him  ?  What  good  will  that 
do  me?  He  will  be  condemned  to  two  or  three  years' 
imprisonment.  Will  that  give  me  a  cent?  He  will 
serve  out  his  time  quietly;  and,  when  he  gets  out  of 
prison,  he'll  get  hold  of  the  pile  that  he's  got  hidden 
somewhere;  and  while  I  starve,  he'll  spend  my  money 
under  my  very  nose.  No,  no !  Things  won't  suit  me 
that  way.  It's  at  once  that  I  want  to  be  paid." 

And  throwing  himself  upon  a  chair  his  head  back, 
and  his  legs  stretched  forward, — 

"  And  what's  more,"  he  declared,  "  I  am  not  going 
out  of  here  until  I  am  paid." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  187 

It  was  not  without  the  greatest  efforts  that  Max- 
ence  managed  to  keep  his  temper. 

"  Your  insults  are  useless,  sir,"  he  commenced. 

The  man  jumped  up  from  his  seat. 

"  Insults !  "  he  cried  in  a  voice  that  could  have  been 
heard  all  through  the  house.  "  Do  you  call  it  an  insult 
when  a  man  claims  his  own?  If  you  think  you  can 
make  me  hush,  you  are  mistaken  in  your  man,  M.  Fa- 
voral,  jun.  I  am  not  rich  myself:  my  father  has  not 
stolen  to  leave  me  an  income.  It  is  not  in  gambling  at 
the  bourse  that  I  made  these  ten  thousand  francs.  It 
is  by  the  sweat  of  my  body,  by  working  hard  night  and 
day  for  years,  by  depriving  myself  of  a  glass  of  wine 
when  I  was  thirsty.  And  I  am  to  lose  them?  By  the 
holy  name  of  heaven,  we'll  have  to  see  about  that !  If 
everybody  was  like  me,  there  would  not  be  so  many 
scoundrels  going  about,  their  pockets  filled  with  other 
people's  money,  and  from  the  top  of  their  carriage 
laughing  at  the  poor  fools  they  have  ruined.  Come,  my 
ten  thousand  francs,  canaille,  or  I  take  my  pay  on  your 
back." 

Maxence,  enraged,  was  about  to  throw  himself  upon 
the  man,  and  a  disgusting  struggle  was  about  to  begin, 
when  Mile.  Gilberte  stepped  between  them. 

"  Your  threats  are  as  cowardly  as  your  insults,  Mon- 
sieur Bertan,"  she  uttered  in  a  quivering  voice.  "  You 
have  known  us  long  enough  to  be  aware  that  we  know 
nothing  of  our  father's  business,  and  that  we  have  noth- 
ing ourselves.  All  we  can  do  is  to  give  up  to  our  cred- 
itors our  very  last  crumb.  Thus  it  shall  be  done.  And 
now,  sir,  please  retire." 

There  was  so  much  dignity  in  her  sorrow,  and  so  im- 
posing was  her  attitude,  that  the  baker  stood  abashed. 


i88  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Ah !  if  that's  the  way,"  he  stammered  awkwardly ; 
"  and  since  you  meddle  with  it,  mademoiselle  " — 

And  he  retreated  precipitately,  growling  at  the  same 
time  threats  and  excuses,  and  slamming  the  doors  after 
him  hard  enough  to  break  the  partitions. 

"  What  a  disgrace !  "  murmured  Mme.  Favoral. 

Crushed  by  this  last  scene,  she  was  choking ;  and  her 
children  had  to  carry  her  to  the  open  window.  She  re- 
covered almost  at  once;  but  thus,  through  the  dark- 
ness, bleak  and  cold,  she  had  like  a  vision  of  her  hus- 
band ;  and,  throwing  herself  back, — 

"  O  great  heavens !  "  she  uttered,  "  where  did  he  go 
when  he  left  us?  Where  is  he  now?  What  is  he  do- 
ing ?  What  has  become  of  him  ?  " 

Her  married  life  had  been  for  Mme.  Favoral  but  a 
slow  torture.  It  was  in  vain  that  she  would  have  looked 
back  through  her  past  life  for  some  of  those  happy  days 
which  leave  their  luminous  track  in  life,  and  towards 
which  the  mind  turns  in  the  hours  of  grief.  Vincent 
Favoral  had  never  been  aught  but  a  brutal  despot,  abus- 
ing the  resignation  of  his  victim.  And  yet,  had  he  died, 
she  would  have  wept  bitterly  over  him  in  all  the  sin- 
cerity of  her  honest  and  simple  soul.  Habit !  Prisoners 
have  been  known  to  shed  tears  over  the  grave  of  their 
jailer.  Then  he  was  her  husband,  after  all,  the  father 
of  her  children,  the  only  man  who  existed  for  her.  For 
twenty-six  years  they  had  never  been  separated:  they 
had  sat  at  the  same  table :  they  had  slept  side  by  side. 

Yes,  she  would  have  wept  over  him.  But  how  much 
tass  poignant  would  her  grief  have  been  than  at  this 
moment,  when  it  was  complicated  by  all  the  torments  of 
uncertainty,  and  by  the  most  frightful  apprehensions! 

Fearing  lest  she  might  take  cold,  her  children  had 
removed  her  to  the  sofa,  and  there,  all  shivering, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  189 

"  Isn't  it  horrible,"  she  said,  "  not  to  know  any  thing 
of  your  father  ? — to  think  that  at  this  very  moment,  per- 
haps, pursued  by  the  police,  he  is  wandering  in  despair 
through  the  streets,  without  daring  to  ask  anywhere  for 
shelter." 

Her  children  had  no  time  to  answer  and  comfort  her ; 
for  at  this  moment  the  door-be11  rang  again. 

"  Who  can  it  be  now?  "  said  Mme.  Favor-al  with  a 
start. 

This  time  there  was  no  discussion  in  the  hall.  Steps 
sounded  on  the  floor  of  the  dining-room;  the  door 
opened ;  and  M.  Desclavettes,  the  old  bronze-merchant, 
walked,  or  rather  slipped  into  the  parlor. 

Hope,  fear,  anger,  all  the  sentiments  which  agitated 
his  soul,  could  be  read  on  his  pale  and  cat-like  face. 

"  It  is  I,"  he  commenced. 

Maxence  stepped  forward. 

"  Have  you  heard  any  thing  from  my  father,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  old  merchant,  "  I  confess  I  have 
not ;  and  I  was  just  coming  to  see  if  you  had  yourselves. 
Oh,  I  know  very  well  that  this  is  not  exactly  the  hour 
to  call  at  a  house ;  but  I  thought,  that,  after  what  took 
place  this  evening,  you  would  not  be  in  bed  yet.  I  could 
not  sleep  myself.  You  understand  a  friendship  of 
twenty  years'  standing!  So  I  took  Mme.  Desclavettes 
home,  and  here  I  am." 

"  We  feel  very  thankful  for  your  kindness,"  mur- 
mured Mme.  Favoral. 

"  I  am  glad  you  do.  The  fact  is,  you  see,  I  take  a 
good  deal  of  interest  in  the  misfortune  that  strikes  you, 
— a  greater  interest  than  any  one  else.  For,  after  all, 
I,  too,  am  a  victim.  I  had'  intrusted  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs  to  our  dear  Vincent." 

"  Alas,  sir !  "  said  Mile.  Gilberte. 


190  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

But  the  worthy  man  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed. 

"  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  him,"  he  went  on, — 
"  absolutely  none.  Why,  dear  me !  haven't  I  been  in 
business  myself?  and  don't  I  know  what  it  is?  First, 
\ve  borrow  a  thousand  francs  or  so  from  the  cash  ac- 
count, then  ten  thousand,  then  a  hundred  thousand. 
Oh!  without  any  bad  intention,  to  be  sure,  and  with 
the  firm  "resolution  to  return  them.  But  we  don't  al- 
ways do  ;vhat  we  wish  to  do.  Circumstances  some- 
times work  against  us,  if  \ve  operate  at  the  bourse  to 
make  up  the  deficit  we  lose.  Then  we  must  borrow 
again,  draw  from  Peter  to  pay  Paul.  We  are  afraid  of 
being  caught:  we  are  compelled,  reluctantly  of  course, 
to  alter  the  books.  At  last  a  day  comes  when  we  find 
that  millions  are  gone,  and  the  bomb-shell  bursts.  Does 
it  follow  from  this  that  a  man  is  dishonest?  Not  the 
least  in  the  world :  he  is  simply  unlucky." 

He  stopped,  as  if  awaiting  an  answ.er;  but,  as  none 
came,  he  resumed, — 

"  I  repeat,  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  Favoral.  Only 
then,  now,  between  us,  to  lose  these  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  francs  would  simply  be  a  disaster  for  me.  I 
know  very  well  that  both  Chapelain  and  Desormeaux 
had  also  deposited  funds  with  Favoral.  But  they  are 
rich:  one  of  them  owns  three  houses  in  Paris,  and  the 
other  has  a  good  situation;  whereas  I,  these  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  francs  gone,  I'd  have  nothing  left 
but  my  eyes  to  weep  with.  My  wife  is  dying  about  it. 
I  assure  you  our  position  is  a  terrible  one." 

To  M.  Desclavettes,  as  to  the  baker  a  few  moments 
before, — 

"  We  have  nothing,"  said  Maxence. 
"  I  know  it,"  exclaimed  the  old  merchant.    "  I  know 
it  as  well  as  you  do  yourself.    And  so  I  have  come  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  191 

beg  a  little  favor  of  you,  which  w.ill  cost  you  nothing. 
When  you  see  Favoral,  remember  me  to  him,  explain 
my  situation  to  him,  and  try  to  make  him  give  me  back 
my  money.  He  is  a  hard  one  to  fetch,  that's  a  fact. 
But  if  you  go  right  about  it,  above  all,  if  our  dear  Gil- 
berte  will  take  the  matter  in  hand  " — 

"Sir!" 

"  Oh !  I  swear  I  sha'n't  say  a  word  about  it,  either 
to  Desormeaux  or  Chapelain,  nor  to  any  one  else.  Al- 
though reimbursed,  I'll  make  as  much  noise  as  the  rest, 
— more  noise,  even.  Come,  now,  my  dear  friends,  what 
do  you  say  ?  " 

He  was  almost  crying. 

"  And  where  the  deuse,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  "  do 
you  expect  my  father  to  take  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  francs  ?  Didn't  you  see  him  go  without  even 
taking  the  money  that  M.  de  Thaller  had  brought?  " 

A  smile  appeared  upon  M.  Desclavettes'  pale  lips. 

"  That  will  do  very  well  to  say,  my  dear  Maxence ;  " 
he  said,  "  and  some  people  may  believe  it.  But  don't 
say  it  to  your  old  friend,  who  knows  too  much  about 
business  for  that.  When  a  man  puts  off,  after  borrow- 
ing twelve  millions  from  his  employers,  he  would  be  a 
great  fool  if  he  had  not  put  away  two  or  three  in  safety. 
Now,  Favoral  is  not  a  fool." 

Tears  of  shame  and  anger  started  from  Mile.  Gil- 
berte's  eyes. 

"  What  you  are  saying  is  abominable,  sir !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

He  seemed  much  surprised  at  this  outburst  of  vio- 
lence. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  he  answered.  "  In  Vincent's  place,  I 
should  not  have  hesitated  to  do  what  he  has  certainly 
done.  And  I  am  an  honest  man  too.  I  was  in  business 


192  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

for  twenty  years;  and  I  dare  any  one  to  prove  that  a 
note  signed  Desclavettes  ever  went  to  protest.  And 
so,  my  dear  friends,  I  beseech  you,  consent  to  serve  your 
old  friend,  and,  when  you  see  your  father  " — 

The  old  man's  tone  of  voice  exasperated  even  Mme. 
Favoral  herself. 

"  We  never  expect  to  see  my  husband  again,"  she 
uttered. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  in  a  tone  of  pater- 
nal reproach, — 

"  You  just  give  up  all  such  ugly  ideas,"  he  said. 
"  You  will  see  him  again,  that  dear  Vincent ;  for  he  is 
much  too  sharp  to  allow  himself  to  be  caught.  Of 
course,  he'll  stay  away  as  long  as  it  may  be  necessary ; 
but,  as  soon  as  he  can  return  without  danger,  he  will 
do  so.  The  Statute  of  Limitations  has  not  been  in- 
vented for  the  Grand  Turk.  Why,  the  Boulevard  is 
crowded  with  people  who  have  all  had  their  little  diffi- 
culty, and  who  have  spent  five  or  ten  years  abroad  for 
their  health.  Does  any  one  think  any  thing  of  it  ?  Not 
in  the  least;  and  no  one  hesitates  to  shake  hands  with 
them.  Besides,  those  things  are  so  soon  forgotten." 

He  kept  on  as  if  he  never  intended  to  stop ;  and  it  was 
not  without  trouble  that  Maxence  and  Gilberte  suc- 
ceeded in  sending  him  off,  very  much  dissatisfied  to  see 
his  request  so  ill  received.  It  was  after  twelve  o'clock. 
Maxence  was  anxious  to  return  to  his  own  home ;  but, 
at  the  pressing  instances  of  his  mother,  he  consented  to 
remain,  and  threw  himself,  without  undressing,  on  the 
bed  in  his  old  room. 

"  What  will  the  morrow  bring  forth  ?  "  he  thought. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  193 


XXIII. 

AFTER  a  few.  hours  of  that  leaden  sleep  which  fol- 
lows great  catastrophes,  Mme.  Favoral  and  her  chil- 
dren were  awakened  on  the  morning  of  the  next  day, 
which  was  Sunday,  by  the  furious  clamors  of  an  ex- 
asperated crowd.  Each  one,  from  his  own  room,  under- 
stood that  the  apartment  had  just  been  invaded.  Loud 
blows  upon  the  door  were  mingled  with  the  noise  of 
feet,  the  oaths  of  men,  and  the  screams  of  women. 
And,  above  this  confused  and  continuous  tumult,  such 
vociferations  as  these  could  be  heard : — 

"  I  tell  you  they  must  be  at  home !  " 

"  Canailles,  swindlers,  thieves !  " 

"  We  want  to  go  in :  we  will  go  in ! " 

"  Let  the  woman  come,  then :  we  want  to  see  her,  to 
speak  to  her !  " 

Occasionally  there  were  moments  of  silence,  during 
which  the  plaintive  voice  of  the  servant  could  be  heard ; 
but  almost  at  once  the  cries  and  the  threats  commenced 
again,  louder  than  ever.  Maxence,  being  ready  first, 
ran  to  the  parlor,  where  his  mother  and  sister  joined 
him  directly,  their  eyes  swollen  by  sleep  and  by  tears. 
Mme.  Favoral  was  trembling  so  much  that  she  could 
not  succeed  in  fastening  her  dress. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  "  she  said  in  a  choking  voice. 

From  the  parlor,  which  was  divided  from  the  dining- 
room  by  folding-doors,  they  did  not  miss  a  single  in- 
sult. 

"  Well,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte  coldly,  "  what  else  could 
we  expect?  If  Bertan  came  alone  last  night,  it  is  be- 
cause he  alone  had  been  notified.  Here  are  the  others 
now." 


194  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And,  turning  to  her  brother, — 

"  You  must  see  them,"  she  added,  "  speak  to  them." 

But  Maxence  did  not  stir.  The  idea  of  facing  the 
insults  and  the  curses  of  these  enraged  creditors  was  too 
repugnant  to  him. 

"  Would  you  rather  let  them  break  in  the  door?  "  said 
Mile.  Gilberte.  "  That  won't  take  long." 

He  hesitated  no  more.  Gathering  all  his  courage, 
he  stepped  into  the  dining-room.  The  disorder  was  be- 
yond limits.  The  table  had  been  pushed  towards  one 
of  the  corners,  the  chairs  were  upset.  They  were  there 
some  thirty  men  and  women, — concierges,  shop-keepers, 
and  retired  bourgeois  of  the  neighborhood,  their  cheeks 
flushed,  their  eyes  staring,  gesticulating  as  if  they  had 
a  fit,  shaking  their  clinched  fists  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Gentlemen,"  commenced  Maxence. 

But  his  voice  was  drowned  by  the  most  frightful 
shouts.  He  had  hardly  got  in,  when  he  was  so  closely 
surrounded,  that  he  had  been  unable  to  close  the  par- 
lor-door after  him,  and  had  been  driven  and  backed 
against  the  embrasure  of  a  window. 

"  My  father,  gentlemen,"  he  resumed. 

Again  he  was  interrupted.  There  were  three  or  four 
before  him,  who  were  endeavoring  before  all  to  estab- 
lish their  own  claims  clearly. 

They  were  speaking  all  at  once,  each  one  raising 
his  own  voice  so  as  to  drown  that  of  the  others.  And 
yet,  through  their  confused  explanations,  it  was  easy 
to  understand  the  way  in  which  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  had  managed  things. 

Formerly  it  was  only  with  great  reluctance  that  he 
consented  to  take  charge  of  the  funds  which  were  of- 
fered to  him ;  and  then  he  never  accepted  sums  less  than 
ten  thousand  francs,  being  always  careful  to  say,  that, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  195 

not  being  a  prophet,  he  could  not  answer  for  any  thing, 
and  might  be  mistaken,  like  any  one  else.  Since  the 
Commune,  on  the  contrary,  and  with  a  duplicity,  that 
could  never  have  been  suspected,  he  had  used  all  his 
ingenuity  to  attract  deposits.  Under  some  pretext  or 
other,  he  would  call  among  the  neighbors,  the  shop- 
keepers ;  and,  after  lamenting  with  them  about  the  hard 
times  and  the  difficulty  of  making  money,  he  always 
ended  by  holding  up  to  them  the  dazzling  profits  which 
are  yielded  by  certain  investments  unknown  to  the  pub- 
lic. 

If  these  very  proceedings  had  not  betrayed  him,  it  is 
because  he  recommended  to  each  the  most  inviolable  se- 
crecy, saying,  that,  at  the  slightest  indiscretion,  he 
would  be  assailed  with  demands,  and  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  him  to  do  for  all  what  he  did  for  one. 

At  any  rate,  he  took  every  thing  that  was  offered, 
even  the  most  insignificant  sums,  affirming,  with  the 
most  imperturbable  assurance,  that  he  could  double 
or  treble  them  without  the  slightest  risk. 

The  catastrophe  having  come,  the  smaller  creditors 
showed  themselves,  as  usual,  the  most  angry  and  the 
most  intractable.  The  less  money  one  has,  the  more 
anxious  one  is  to  keep  it.  There  was  there  an  old  news- 
paper-vender, who  had  placed  in  M.  Favoral's  hands  all 
she  had  in  the  world,  the  savings  of  her  entire  life, — 
five  hundred  francs.  Clinging  desperately  to  Maxence's 
garments,  she  begged  him  to  give  them  back  to  her, 
swearing,  that,  if  he  did  not,  there  was  nothing  left  for 
her  to  do,  except  to  throw  herself  in  the  river.  Her 
groans  and  her  cries  of  distress  exasperated  the  other 
creditors. 

That  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  should  have 
embezzled  millions,  they  could  well  understand,  they 


196  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

said.  But  that  he  could  have  robbed  this  poor  woman 
of  her  five  hundred  francs, — nothing  more  low,  more 
cowardly,  and  more  vile  could  be  imagined ;  and  the  law 
had  no  chastisement  severe  enough  for  such  a  crime. 

"  Give  her  back  her  five  hundred  francs ;  "  they  cried. 

For  there  was  not  one  of  them  but  would  have 
wagered  his  head  that  M.  Favoral  had  lots  of  money  put 
away;  and  some  went  even  so  far  as  to  say  that  he 
must  have  hid  it  in  the  house,  and,  if  they  looked  well, 
they  would  find  it. 

Maxence,  bewildered,  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  when, 
in  the  midst  of  this  hostile  crowd,  he  perceived  M. 
Chapelain's  friendly  face. 

Driven  from  his  bed  at  daylight  by  the  bitter  regrets 
at  the  heavy  loss  he  had  just  sustained,  the  old  lawyer 
had  arrived  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  creditors  invaded  M.  Favoral's  apartment. 
Standing  behind  the  crowd,  he  had  seen  and  heard  every 
thing  without  breathing  a  word;  and,  if  he  interfered 
now,  it  was  because  he  thought  things  were  about  to 
take  an  ugly  turn.  He  was  well  known;  and,  as  soon 
as  he  showed  himself, — 

"  He  is  a  friend  of  the  rascal !  "  they  shouted  on  all 
sides. 

But  he  was  not  the  man  to  be  so  easily  frightened. 
He  had  seen  many  a  worse  case  during  twenty  years 
that  he  had  practised  law,  and  had  witnessed  all  the 
sinister  comedies  and  all  the  grotesque  dramas  of  money. 
He  knew  how  to  speak  to  infuriated  creditors,  how  to 
handle  them,  and  what  strings  can  be  made  to  vibrate 
within  them.  In  the  most  quiet  tone, — 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  "  I  was  Favoral's  intimate 
friend;  and  the  proof  of  it  is,  that  he  has  treated  me 


197 

more  friendly  than  the  rest.  I  am  in  for  a  hundred  and 
sixty  thousand  francs." 

By  this  mere  declaration  he  conquered  the  sympathies 
of  the  crowd.  He  was  a  brother  in  misfortune;  they 
respected  him:  he  was  a  skilful  business-man;  they 
stopped  to  listen  to  him. 

At  once,  and  in  a  short  and  trenchant  tone,  he  asked 
these  invaders  what  they  were  doing  there,  and  what 
they  wanted.  Did  they  not  know  to  what  they  ex- 
posed themselves  in  violating  a  domicile  ?  What  would 
have  happened,  if,  instead  of  stopping  to  parley,  Max- 
ence  had  sent  for  the  commissary  of  police?  Was  it 
to  Mme.  Favoral  and  her  children  that  they  had  in- 
trusted their  funds?  No!  What  did  they  w.ant  with 
them  then?  Was  there  by  chance  among  them  some 
of  those  shrewd  fellows  who  always  try  to  get  them- 
selves paid  in  full,  to  the  detriment  of  the  others  ? 

This  last  insinuation  proved  sufficient  to  break  up  the 
perfect  accord  that  had  hitherto  existed  among  all  the 
creditors.  Distrust  arose ;  suspicious  glances  were  ex- 
changed ;  and,  as  the  old  newspaper  woman  was  keep- 
ing up  her  groans, — 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  you  should  be  paid  be- 
fore us."  two  women  told  her  roughly.  "  Our  rights 
are  just  as  good  as  yours !  "  t 

Prompt  to  avail  himself  of  the  dispositions  of  the 
crowd, — 

"  And,  moreover,"  resumed  the  old  lawyer,  "  in  whom 
did  we  place  our  confidence  ?  Was  it  in  Favoral  the  pri- 
vate individual  ?  To  a  certain  extent,  yes ;  but  it  was 
much  more  to  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit.  There- 
fore that  establishment  owes  us,  at  least,  some  explana- 
tions. And  this  is  not  all.  Are  we  really  so  badly 


198  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

burned,  that  we  should  scream  so  loud?  What  do  we 
know  about  it?  That  Favoral  is  charged  with  embez- 
zlement, that  they  came  to  arrest  him,  and  that  he  has 
run  away.  Is  that  any  reason  why  our  money  should  be 
lost?  I  hope  not.  And  so  what  should  we  do?  Act 
prudently,  and  wait  patiently  for  the  work  of  justice." 

Already,  by  this  time,  the  creditors  had  slipped  out 
one  by  one ;  and  soon  the  servant  closed  the  door  on  the 
last  of  them. 

Then  Mme.  Favoral,  Maxence,  and  Mile.  Gilberte 
surrounded  M.  Chapelain,  and,  pressing  his  hands, — 

"  How  thankful  we  feel,  sir,  for  the  service  you  have 
just  rendered  us !  " 

But  the  old  lawyer  seemed  in  no  wise  proud  of  his 
victory. 

"  Do  not  thank  me,"  he  said.  "  I  have  only  done  my 
duty, — what  any  honest  man  would  have  done  in  my 
place." 

And  yet,  under  the  appearance  of  impassible  cold- 
ness, which  he  owed  to  the  long  practice  of  a  profes- 
sion which  leaves  no  illusions,  he  evidently  felt  a  real 
emotion. 

"  It  is  you  whom  I  pity,"  he  added,  "  and  with  all  my 
soul, — you,  madame,  you,  my  dear  Gilberte,  and  you, 
too,  Maxence.  Never  had  I  so  well  understood  to  what 
degree  is  guilty  the  head  of  a  family  who  leaves  his 
wife  and  children  exposed  to  the  consequences  of  his 
crimes." 

He  stopped.  The  servant  was  trying  her  best  to  put 
the  dining-room  in  some  sort  of  order  wheeling  the  ta- 
ble to  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  lifting  up  the  chairs 
from  the  floor. 

"  What  pillage !  "  she  grumbled.  "  Neighbors  too, — 
people  from  whom  we  bought  our  things !  But  they 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  199 

were  worse  than  savages;  impossible  to  do  any  thing 
with  them." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself,  my  good  girl,"  said  M. 
Chapelain :  "  they  won't  come  back  any  more !  " 

Mme.  Favoral  looked  as  if  she  wished  to  drop  on  her 
knees  before  the  old  lawyer. 

"  How.  very  kind  you  are !  "  she  murmured :  "  you 
are  not  too  angry  with  my  poor  Vincent !  " 

With  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  made  up  his  mind 
to  make  the  best  of  a  disaster  that  he  cannot  help,  M. 
Chapelain  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  am  angry  with  no  one  but  myself,"  he  uttered  in 
a  bluff  tone.  "  An  old  bird  like  me  should  not  have  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  caught  in  a  pigeon-trap.  I  am  in- 
excusable. But  we  want  to  get  rich.  It's  slow  work 
getting  rich  by  working,  and  it's  so  much  easier  to  get 
the  money  already  made  out  of  our  neighbor's  pockets ! 
I  have  been  unable  to  resist  the  temptation  myself.  It's 
my  own  fault ;  and  I  should  say  it  was  a  good  lesson,  if 
it  did  not  cost  so  dear." 


XXIV. 

So  much  philosophy  could  hardly  have  been  expected 
of  him. 

"  All  my  father's  friends  are  not  as  indulgent  as  you 
are,"  said  Maxence, — "  M.  Desclavettes,  for  instance." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  last  night,  about  twelve  o'clock.  He  came 
to  ask  us  to  get  father  to  pay  him  back,  if  we  should 
ever  see  him  again." 

"  That  might  be  an  idea !  " 

Mile.  Gilberte  started. 


200  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  What !  "  said  she,  "  you,  too,  sir,  can  imagine  that 
my  father  has  run  away  with  millions  ?  " 

The  old  lawyer  shook  his  head. 

"  I  believe  nothing,"  he  answered.  "  Favoral  has 
taken  me  in  so  completely, — me,  who  had  the  preten- 
sion of  being  a  judge  of  men, — that  nothing  from  him, 
either  for  good  or  for  evil,  could  surprise  me  hereafter." 

Mme.  Favoral  was  about  to  offer  some  objection; 
but  he  stopped  her  with  a  gesture. 

"  And  yet,"  he  went  on,  "  I'd  bet  that  he  has  gone 
off  with  empty  pockets.  His  recent  operations  reveal 
a  frightful  distress.  Had  he  had  a  few  thousand  francs 
at  his  command,  would  he  have  extorted  five  hundred 
francs  from  a  poor  old  woman,  a  newspaper-vender? 
What  did  he  want  with  the  money  ?  Try  his  luck  once 
more,  no  doubt." 

He  was  seated,  his  elbow  upon  the  arm  of  the  chair, 
his  head  resting  upon  his  hands,  thinking ;  and  the  con- 
traction of  his  features  indicated  an  extraordinary  ten- 
sion of  mind. 

Suddenly  he  drew  himself  up. 

"  But  why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  why  wander  in  idle  con- 
jectures? What  do  we  know  about  Favoral?  Noth- 
ing. One  entire  side  of  his  existence  escapes  us, — that 
fantastic  side,  of  which  the  insane  prodigalities  and  in- 
conceivable disorders  have  been  revealed  to  us  by  the 
bills  found  in  his  desk.  He  is  certainly  guilty ;  but  is  he 
as  guilty  as  we  think?  and,  above  all,  is  he  alone  guilty? 
Was  it  for  himself  alone  that  he  drew  all  this  money? 
Are  the  missing  millions  really  lost  ?  and  wouldn't  it  be 
possible  to  find  the  biggest  share  of  them  in  the  pockets 
of  some  accomplice?  Skilful  men  do  not  expose  them- 
selves. They  have  at  their  command  poor  wretches, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  201 

sacrificed  in  advance,  and  who,  in  exchange  for  a  few 
crumbs  that  are  thrown  to  them,  risk  the  criminal  court, 
are  condemned,  and  go  to  prison." 

"  That's  just  what  I  was  telling  my  mother  and  sis- 
ter, sir,"  interrupted  Maxence. 

"  And  that's  what  I  am  telling  myself,"  continued 
the  old  lawyer.  "  I  have  been  thinking  over  and  over 
again  of  last  evening's  scene;  and  strange  doubts  have 
occurred  to  my  mind.  For  a  man  who  has  been  robbed 
of  a  dozen  millions,  M.  de  Thaller  was  remarkably  quiet 
and  self-possessed.  Favoral  appeared  to  me  singularly 
calm  for  a  man  charged  with  embezzlement  and  forgery. 
M.  de  Thaller,  as  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit,  is 
really  responsible  for  the  stolen  funds,  and,  as  such, 
should  have  been  anxious  to  secure  the  guilty  party,  and 
to  produce  him.  Instead  of  that,  he  wished  him  to  go, 
and  actually  brought  him  the  money  to  enable  him  to 
leave.  Was  he  in  hopes  of  hushing  up  the  affair  ?  Evi- 
dently not,  since  the  police  had  been  notified.  On  the 
other  hand,  Favoral  seemed  much  more  angry  than  sur- 
prised by  the  occurrence.  It  was  only  on  the  appear- 
ance of  the  commissary  of  police  that  he  seems  to  have 
lost  his  head;  and  then  some  very  strange  things 
escaped  him,  which  I  cannot  understand." 

He  was  walking  at  random  through  the  parlor,  ap- 
parently rather  answering  the  objections  of  his  own 
mind  than  addressing  himself  to  his  interlocutors,  who 
were  listening,  nevertheless,  with  all  the  attention  of 
which  they  were  capable. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  went  on.  "  An  old  traveller  like 
me  to  be  taken  in  thus!  Evidently  there  is  under  all 
this  one  of  those  diabolical  combinations  which  time 
even  fails  to  unravel.  We  ought  to  see,  to  inquire  " — 


202  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  then,  suddenly  stopping  in  front  of  Maxence, — 

"  How  much  did  M.  de  Thaller  bring  to  your  father 
last  evening?  "  he  asked. 

"  Fifteen  thousand  francs." 

"Where  are  they?" 

"  Put  away  in  mother's  room." 

"  When  do  you  expect  to  take  them  back  to  M.  de 
Thaller?" 

"  To-morrow." 

"Why  not  to-day?" 

"  This  is  Sunday.  The  offices  of  the  Mutual  Credit 
must  be  closed." 

"  After  the  occurrences  of  yesterday,  M.  de  Thaller 
must  be  at  his  office.  Besides,  haven't  you  his  private 
address  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  have." 

The  old  lawyer's  small  eyes  were  shining  with  un- 
usual brilliancy.  He  certainly  felt  deeply  the  loss  of  his 
money ;  but  the  idea  that  he  had  been  swindled  for  the 
benefit  of  some  clever  rascal  was  absolutely  insupport- 
able to  him. 

"  If  we  were  wise,"  he  said  again,  "  we'd  do  this. 
Mme.  Favoral  would  take  these  fifteen  thousand  francs, 
and  we  would  go  together,  she  and  I,  to  see  M.  de 
Thaller." 

It  was  an  unexpected  good-fortune  for  Mme.  Fa- 
voral, that  M.  Chapelain  should  consent  to  assist  her. 
So,  without  hesitating, — 

"  The  time  to  dress,  sir,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  ready." 

She  left  the  parlor ;  but  as  she  reached  her  room,  her 
son  joined  her. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  go  out,  dear  mother,"  he  said ;  "  and 
I  shall  probably  not  be  home  to  breakfast." 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  painful  surprise. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  203 

"  What,"  she  said,  "  at  such  a  moment !  " 

"  I  am  expected  home." 

"  By  whom  ?    A  woman  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  Well,  yes." 

"  And  it  is  for  that  woman's  sake  that  you  want  to 
leave  your  sister  alone  at  home  ?  " 

"  I  must,  mother,  I  assure  you ;  and,  if  you  only 
knew  " — 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  know,  any  thing." 

But  his  resolution  had  been  taken.  He  went  off ;  and 
a  few  moments  later  Mme.  Favoral  and  M.  Chapelain 
entered  a  cab  which  had  been  sent  for,  and  drove  to  M. 
de  Thaller's. 

Left  alone,  Mile.  Gilberte  had  but  one  thought, — to 
notify  M.  de  Tregars,  and  obtain  word  from  him.  Any 
thing  seemed  preferable  to  the  horrible  anxiety  which 
oppressed  her.  She  had  just  commenced  a  letter,  which 
she  intended  to  have  taken  to  the  Count  de  Villegre, 
when  a  violent  ring  of  the  bell  made  her  start ;  and  al- 
most immediately  the  servant  came  in,  saying, — 

"  It  is  a  gentleman  who  wishes  to  see  you,  a  friend 
of  monsieur's, — M.  Costeclar,  you  know.." 

Mile.  Gilberte  started  to  her  feet,  trembling  with  ex- 
citement. 

"  That's  too  much  impudence !  "  she  exclaimed. 

She  was  hesitating  whether  to  refuse  him  the  door,  or 
to  see  him,  and  dismiss  him  shamefully  herself,  when 
she  had  a  sudden  inspiration.  "  What  does  he  want  ?  " 
she  thought.  "  Why  not  see  him,  and  try  and  find 
out  what  he  knows?  For  he  certainly  must  know  the 
truth." 

But  it  was  no  longer  time  to  deliberate.  Above  the 
servant's  shoulder  M.  Costeclar's  pale  and  impudent 
face  showed  itself. 


204  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

The  girl  having  stepped  to  one  side,  he  appeared,  hat 
in  hand.  Although  it  was  not  yet  nine  o'clock,  his 
morning  toilet  was  irreproachably  correct.  He  had  al- 
ready passed  through  the  hair-dresser's  hands ;  and  his 
scanty  hair  was  brought  forward  over  his  low  fore- 
head with  the  usual  elaborate  care. 

He  wore  a  pair  of  those  ridiculous  trousers  which 
grow  wide  from  the  knee  down,  and  which  were  in- 
vented by  Prussian  tailors  to  hide  their  customers'  ugly 
feet.  Under  his  light-colored  overcoat  could  be  seen  a 
velvet-faced  jacket,  with  a  rose  in  its  buttonhole. 

Meantime,  he  remained  motionless  on  the  threshold 
of  the  door,  trying  to  smile,  and  muttering  one  of  those 
sentences  which  are  never  intended  to  be  finished. 

"  I  beg  you  to  believe,  mademoiselle — your  mother's 
absence — my  most  respectful  admiration  " — 

In  fact,  he  was  taken  aback  by  the  disorder  of  the 
girl's  toilet, — disorder,  which  she  had  had  no  time  to 
repair  since  the  clamors  of  the  creditors  had  started  her 
from  her  bed. 

She  wore  a  long  brow.n  cashmere  wrapper,  fitting 
quite  close  over  the  hips,  setting  off  the  vigorous  ele- 
gance of  her  figure,  the  maidenly  perfections  of  her 
waist,  and  the  exquisite  contour  of  her  neck.  Gathered 
up  in  haste,  her  thick  blonde  hair  escaped  from  beneath 
the  pins,  and  spread  over  her  shoulders  in  luminous 
cascades.  Never  had  she  appeared  to  M.  Costeclar  as 
lovely  as  at  this  moment,  when  her  whole  frame  was 
vibrating  with  suppressed  indignation,  her  cheeks 
flushed,  her  eyes  flashing. 

"  Please  come  in,  sir,"  she  uttered. 

He  stepped  forward,  no  longer  bowing  humbly  as 
formerly,  but  with  legs  outstretched,  chest  thrown  out, 
with  an  ill-concealed  look  of  gratified  vanity. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  205 

"  I  did  not  expect  the  honor  of  your  visit,  sir,"  said 
the  young  girl. 

Passing  rapidly  his  hat  and  his  cane  from  the  right 
hand  into  the  left,  and  then  the  right  hand  upon  his 
heart,  his  eyes  raised  to  the  ceiling,  and  with  all  the 
depth  of  expression  of  which  he  was  capable, — 

"  It  is  in  times  of  adversity  that  we  know  our  real 
friends,  mademoiselle,"  he  uttered.  "  Those  upon  whom 
we  thought  we  could  rely  the  most,  often,  at  the  first 
reverse,  take  flight  forever !  " 

She  felt  a  shiver  pass  over  her.  Was  this  an  allu- 
sion to  Marius  ? 

The  other,  changing  his  tone,  w.ent  on, — 

"  It's  only  last  night  that  I  heard  of  poor  Favoral's 
discomfiture,  at  the  bourse  where  I  had  gone  for  news. 
It  was  the  general  topic  of  conversation.  Twelve  mil- 
lions! That's  pretty  hard.  The  Mutual  Credit  So- 
ciety might  not  be  able  to  stand  it.  From  580,  at  which 
it  was  selling  before  the  news,  it  dropped  at  once  to  300. 
At  nine  o'clock,  there  were  no  takers  at  180.  And  yet, 
if  there  is  nothing  beyond  what  they  say,  at  180,  I  am 
in." 

Was  he  forgetting  himself,  or  pretending  to? 

"  But  please  excuse  me,  mademoiselle,"  he  resumed : 
"  that's  not  what  I  came  to  tell  you." 

"Ah!" 

"  I  came  to  ask  if  you  had  any  news  of  our  poor  Fa- 
voral." 

"  We  have  none,  sir." 

"  Then  it  is  true :  he  succeeded  in  getting  away 
through  this  window  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  he  did  not  tell  you  where  he  meant  to  take 
refuge?" 


206  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  No." 

Observing  M.  Costeclar  with  all  her  power  of  pene- 
tration, Mile.  Gilberte  fancied  she  discovered  in  him 
something  like  a  certain  surprise  mingled  with  joy. 

"  Then  Favoral  must  have  left  without  a  sou  1  " 

"  They  accuse  him  of  having  carried  away  millions, 
sir ;  but  I  would  swear  that  it  is  not  so." 

M.  Costeclar  approved  with  a  nod. 

"  I  am  of  the  same  opinion,"  he  declared,  "  unless — 
but  no,  he  was  not  the  man  to  try  such  a  game.  And 
yet — but  again  no,  he  was  too  closely  watched.  Besides, 
he  was  carrying  a  very  heavy  load,  a  load  that  ex- 
hausted all  his  resources." 

Mile.  Gilberte,  hoping  that  she  was  going  to  learn 
something,  made  an  effort  to  preserve  her  indifference. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  inquired. 

He  looked  at  her,  smiled,  and,  in  a  light  tone, — 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered,  "  only  some  conjectures  of 
my  own." 

And  throwing  himself  upon  a  chair,  his  head  leaning 
upon  its  back, — 

"  That  is  not  the  object  of  my  visit  either,"  he  uttered. 
"  Favoral  is  overboard :  don't  let  us  say  any  thing  more 
about  him.  Whether  he  has  got '  the  bag  '  or  not,  you'll 
never  see  him  again:  he  is  as  good  as  dead.  Let  us, 
therefore,  talk  of  the  living,  of  yourself.  What's  go- 
ing to  become  of  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  question,  sir." 

"  It  is  perfectly  limpid,  nevertheless.  I  am  asking 
myself  how  you  are  going  to  live,  your  mother  and 
yourself  ?  " 

"  Providence  will  not  abandon  us,  sir?  " 

M.  Costeclar  had  crossed  his  legs,  and  with  the  end 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  207 

of  his  cane  he  was  negligently  tapping  his  immaculate 
boot. 

"  Providence !  "  he  giggled :  "  that's  very  good  on  the 
stage,  in  a  play,  with  low  music  in  the  orchestra.  I  can 
just  see  it.  In  real  life,  unfortunately,  the  life  which 
we  both  live,  you  and  I,  it  is  not  w.ith  words,  were  they 
a  yard  long,  that  the  baker,  the  grocer,  and  those  ras- 
cally landlords,  can  be  paid,  or  that  dresses  and  shoes 
can  be  bought." 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  went  on,  "  here  you  are  without  a 
penny.  Is  it  Maxence  who  will  supply  you  with  money  ? 
Poor  fellow !  Where  would  he  get  it  ?  He  has  hardly 
enough  for  himself.  Therefore,  what  are  you  going  to 
do?" 

"  I  shall  work,  sir." 

He  got  up,  bowed  low,  and,  resuming  his  seat, — 

"  My  sincere  compliments,"  he  said.  "  There  is  but 
one  obstacle  to  that  fine  resolution :  it  is  impossible  for 
a  woman  to  live  by  her  labor  alone.  Servants  are  about 
the  only  ones  who  ever  get  their  full  to  eat." 

"  I'll  be  a  servant,  if  necessary." 

For  two  or  three  seconds  he  remained  taken  aback, 
but,  recovering  himself, — 

"  How  different  things  would  be,"  he  resumed  in  an 
insinuating  tone,  "  if  you  had  not  rejected  me  when  I 
wanted  to  become  your  husband !  But  you  couldn't 
bear  the  sight  of  me.  And  yet,  'pon  my  word,  I  was 
in  love  with  you,  oh,  but  for  good  and  earnest!  You 
see,  I  am  a  judge  of  women;  and  I  saw  very  well  how 
you  would  look,  handsomely  dressed  and  got  up,  lean- 
ing back  in  a  fine  carriage  in  the  Bois  " — 

Stronger  than  her  will,  disgust  rose  to  her  lips. 


208  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Ah,  sir !  "  she  said. 

He  mistook  her  meaning. 

"  You  are  regretting  all  that,"  he  continued.  "  I  see 
it.  Formerly,  eh,  you  would  never  have  consented  to 
receive  me  thus,  alone  with  you,  which  proves  that  girls 
should  not  be  headstrong,  my  dear  child." 

He,  Costeclar,  he  dared  to  call  her,  "  My  dear  child." 
Indignant  and  insulted,  "  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed. 

But  he  had  started,  and  kept  on, — 

"  Well,  such  as  I  was,  I  am  still.  To  be  sure,  there 
probably  would  be  nothing  further  said  about  marriage 
between  us;  but,  frankly,  what  would  you  care  if  the 
conditions  were  the  same, — a  fine  house,  carriages, 
horses,  servants  " — 

Up  to  this  moment,  she  had  not  fully  understood  him. 
Drawing  herself  up  to  her  fullest  height,  and  pointing 
to  the  door, — 

"  Leave  this  moment,"  she  ordered. 

But  he  seemed  in  no  wise  disposed  to  do  so :  on  the 
contrary,  paler  than  usual,  his  eyes  bloodshot,  his  lips 
trembling,  and  smiling  a  strange  smile,  he  advanced  to- 
wards Mile.  Gilberte. 

"  What !  "  said  he.  "  You  are  in  trouble,  I  kindly 
come  to  offer  my  services,  and  this  is  the  way  you  re- 
ceive me!  You  prefer  to  work,  do  you?  Go  ahead 
then,  my  lovely  one,  prick  your  pretty  fingers,  and  red- 
den your  eyes.  My  time  will  come.  Fatigue  and  want, 
cold  in  the  winter,  hunger  in  all  seasons,  will  speak  to 
your  little  heart  of  that  kind  Costeclar  who  adores  you, 
like  a  big  fool  that  he  is,  who  is  a  serious  man  and  who 
has  money, — much  money." 

Beside  herself, — 

"  Wretch !  "  cried  the  girl,  "  leave,  leave  at  once !  " 

"  One  moment,"  said  a  strong  voice. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  209 

M.  Costeclar  looked  around. 

Marius  de  Tregars  stood  within  the  frame  of  the 
open  door. 

"  Marius !  "  murmured  Mile.  Gilberte,  rooted  to  the 
spot  by  a  surprise  hardly  less  immense  than  her  joy. 

To  behold  him  thus  suddenly,  when  she  was  won- 
dering whether  she  would  ever  see  him  again;  to  see 
him  appear  at  the  very  moment  when  she  found  herself 
alone,  and  exposed  to  the  basest  outrages, — it  was  one 
of  those  fortunate  occurrences  which  one  can  scarcely 
realize ;  and  from  the  depth  of  her  soul  rose  something 
like  a  hymn  of  thanks. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  confounded  at  M.  Costeclar's 
attitude.  According  to  her,  and  from  what  she  thought 
she  knew,  he  should  have  been  petrified  at  the  sight  of 
M.  de  Tregars. 

And  he  did  not  even  seem  to  know  him.  He  seemed 
shocked,  annoyed  at  being  interrupted,  slightly  sur- 
prised, but  in  no  wise  moved  or  frightened. 

Knitting  his  brows, — 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?  "  he  inquired  in  his  most  im- 
pertinent tone. 

M.  de  Tregars  stepped  forward.-  He  was  somewhat 
pale,  but  unnaturally  calm,  cool,  and  collected.  Bow- 
ing to  Mile.  Gilberte, — 

"  If  I  have  thus  ventured  to  enter  your  apartment, 
mademoiselle,"  he  uttered  gently,  "  it  is  because,  as  I 
was  going  by  the  door,  I  thought  I  recognized  this  gen- 
tleman's carriage." 

And,  with  his  finger  over  his  shoulder,  he  was  point- 
ing to  M.  Costeclar. 

"  Now,"  he  went  on,  "  I  had  reason  to  be  somewhat 
astonished  at  this,  after  the  positive  orders  I  had  given 
him  never  to  set  his  feet,  not  only  in  this  house,  but 


210     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

in  this  part  of  the  city.    I  wished  to  find  out  exactly. 
I  came  up :  I  heard  " — 

All  this  was  said  in  a  tone  of  such  crushing  con- 
tempt, that  a  slap  on  the  face  would  have  been  less  cruel. 
All  the  blood  in  M.  Costeclar's  veins  rushed  to  his  face. 

"  You !  "  he  interrupted  insolently :  "I  do  not  know 
you." 

Imperturbable,  M.  de  Tregars  was  drawing  off  his 
gloves. 

"  Are  you  quite  certain  of  that  ?  "  he  replied.  "  Come, 
you  certainly  know  my  old  friend,  M.  de  Villegre  ?  " 

An  evident  feeling  of  anxiety  appeared  on  M.  Coste- 
clar's countenance. 

"  I  do,"  he  stammered. 

"  Did  not  M.  Villegre  call  upon  you  before  the 
war?" 

"  He  did." 

"  Well,  'twas  I  who  sent  him  to  you ;  and  the  com- 
mands which  he  delivered  to  you  were  mine." 

"Yours?" 

"  Mine.    I  am  Marius  de  Tregars." 

A  nervous  shudder  shook  M.  Costeclar's  lean  frame. 
Instinctively  his  eye  turned  towards  the  door. 

"  You  see,"  Marius  went  on  with  the  same  gentle- 
ness, "  we  are,  you  and  I,  old  acquaintances.  For  you 
quite  remember  me  now,  don't  you?  I  am  the  son  of 
that  poor  Marquis  de  Tregars  who  came  to  Paris,  all 
the  way  from  his  old  Brittany  with  his  whole  fortune, — 
two  millions."  . 

"  I  remember,"  said  the  stock-broker :  "  I  remember 
perfectly  well." 

"  On  the  advice  of  certain  clever  people,  the  Marquis 
de  Tregars  ventured  into  business.  Poor  old  man !  He 
was  not  very  sharp.  He  was  firmly  persuaded  that  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  211 

had  already  more  than  doubled  his  capital,  when  his 
honorable  partners  demonstrated  to  him  that  he  was 
ruined,  and,  besides,  compromised  by  certain  signatures 
imprudently  given." 

Mile.  Gilberte  was  listening,  her  mouth  open,  and 
wondering  what  Marius  was  aiming  at,  and  how  he 
could  remain  so  calm. 

"  That  disaster,"  he  went  on,  "  was  at  the  time  the 
subject  of  an  enormous  number  of  very  witty  jokes. 
The  people  of  the  bourse  could  hardly  admire  enough 
these  bold  financiers  who  had  so  deftly  relieved  that 
candid  marquis  of  his  money.  That  was  well  done  for 
him :  what  was  he  meddling  with  ?  As  to  myself,  to 
stop  the  prosecutions  with  which  my  father  was  threat- 
ened, I  gave  up  all  I  had.  I  was  quite  young,  and,  as 
you  see,  quite  what  you  call,  I  believe,  '  green.'  I  am  no 
longer  so  now.  Were  such  a  thing  to  happen  to  me  to- 
day, I  should  want  to  know  at  once  what  had  become 
of  the  millions :  I  would  feel  all  the  pockets  around  me. 
I  would  say,  '  Stop  thief ! '  " 

At  every  word,  as  it  were,  M.  Costeclar's  uneasiness 
became  more  manifest. 

"  It  was  not  I,"  he  said,  "  who  received  the  benefit 
of  M.  de  Tregars'  fortune." 

Marius  nodded  approvingly. 

"  I  know  now,"  he  replied,  "  among  whom  the  spoils 
were  divided.  You,  M.  Costeclar,  you  took  what  you 
could  get,  timidly,  and  according  to  your  means. 
Sharks  are  always  accompanied  by  small  fishes,  to 
which  they  abandon  the  crumbs  they  disdain.  You  were 
but  a  small  fish  then :  you  accommodated  yourself  with 
what  your  patrons,  the  sharks,  did  not  care  about.  But, 
when  you  tried  to  operate  alone,  you  were  not  shrewd 
enough :  you  left  proofs  of  your  excessive  appetite  for 


212  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

other  people's  money.  Those  proofs  I  have  in  my  pos- 
session." 

M.  Costeclar  was  now  undergoing  perfect  torture. 

"  I  am  caught,"  he  said,  "  I  know  it:  I  told  M.  de 
Villegre  so." 

"  Why  are  you  here,  then?  " 

"  How  did  I  know  that  the  count  had  been  sent  by 
you?" 

"  That's  a  poor  reason,  sir." 

"  Besides,  after  what  has  occurred,  after  Favoral's 
flight,  I  thought  myself  relieved  of  my  engagement." 

"Indeed!" 

"  Well,  if  you  insist  upon  it,  I  am  wrong,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  only  you  are  wrong,"  uttered  Marius  still  per- 
fectly cool,  "  but  you  have  committed  a  great  impru- 
dence. By  failing  to  keep  your  engagements,  you  have 
relieved  me  of  mine.  The  pact  is  broken.  According  to 
the  agreement,  I  have  the  right,  as  I  leave  here,  to  go 
straight  to  the  police." 

M.  Costeclar's  dull  eye  was  vacillating. 

"  I  did  not  think  I  was  doing  wrong,"  he  muttered. 
"  Favoral  was  my  friend." 

"  And  that's  the  reason  why  you  were  coming  to  pro- 
pose to  Mile.  Favoral  to  become  your  mistress  ?  There 
she  is,  you  thought,  without  resources,  literally  with- 
out bread,  without  relatives,  without  friends  to  protect 
her:  this  is  the  time  to  come  forward.  And  thinking 
you  could  be  cowardly,  vile,  and  infamous  with  im- 
punity, you  came." 

To  be  thus  treated,  he,  the  successful  man,  in  pres- 
ence of  this  young  girl,  whom,  a  moment  before,  he 
was  crushing  with  his  impudent  opulence,  no  M.  Coste- 
clar could  not  stand  it.  Losing  completely  his  head, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  213 

"  You  should  have  let  me  know,  then,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  that  she  was  your  mistress." 

Something  like  a  flame  passed  over  M.  de  Tregars' 
face.    His  eyes  flashed.    Rising  in  all  the  height  of  his 
wrath,  which  broke  out  terrible  at  last, — 
"  Ah,  you  scoundrel !  "  he  exclaimed. 
M.  Costeclar  threw  himself  suddenly  to  one  side. 
"Sir!" 

But  at  one  bound  M.  de  Tregars  had  caught  him. 
"  On  your  knees !  "  he  cried. 

And,  seizing  him  by  the  collar  with  an  iron  grip,  he 
lifted  him  clear  off  the  floor,  and  then  threw  him  down 
violently  upon  both  knees. 

"  Speak !  "  he  commanded.  "  Repeat, — '  Made- 
moiselle '  "— 

M.  Costeclar  had  expected  worse  from  M.  de  Tre- 
gars' look.  A  horrible  fear  had  instantly  crushed  within 
him  all  idea  of  resistance. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  stuttered  in  a  choking  voice. 
"  I  am  the  vilest  of  wretches,"  continued  Marius. 
M.  Costeclar's  livid  face  was  oscillating  like  an  inert 
object. 

"  I  am,"  he  repeated,  "  the  vilest  of  wretches." 
"  And  I  beg  of  you  "— 
But  Mile.  Gilberte  was  sick  of  the  sight. 
"  Enough,"  she  interrupted,  "  enough !  " 
Feeling  no  longer  upon  his  shoulders  the  heavy  hand 
of  M.  de  Tregars,  the  stock-broker  rose  with  difficulty 
to  his  feet.    So  livid  was  his  face,  that  one  might  have 
thought  that  his  whole  blood  had  turned  to  gall. 

Dusting  with  the  end  of  his  glove  the  knees  of  his 
trousers,  and  restoring  as  best  he  could  the  harmony 
of  his  toilet,  which  had  been  seriously  disturbed, — 


214  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Is  it  showing  any  courage,"  he  grumbled,  "  to  abuse 
one's  physical  strength  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  had  already  recovered  his  self-posses- 
sion; and  Mile.  Gilberte  thought  she  could  read  upon 
his  face  regret  for  his  violence. 

"  Would  it  be  better  to  make  use  of  what  you  know  ?  " 

M.  Costeclar  joined  his  hands. 

"  You  would  not  do  that,"  he  said.  "  What  good 
would  it  do  you  to  ruin  me  ?  " 

"  None,"  answered  M.  de  Tregars :  "  you  are  right. 
But  yourself?" 

And,  looking  straight  into  M.  Costeclar's  eyes, — 

"  If  you  could  be  of  service  to  me,"  he  inquired, 
"  would  you  be  willing  ?  " 

"  Perhaps.  That  I  might  recover  possession  of  the 
papers  you  have." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  thinking. 

"  After  what  has  just  taken  place,"  he  said  at  last, 
"an  explanation  is  necessary  between  us.  I  will  be  at 
your  house  in  an  hour.  Wait  for  me." 

M.  Costeclar  had  become  more  pliable  than  his  own 
lavender  kid  gloves :  in  fact,  alarmingly  pliable. 

"  I  am  at  your  command,  sir,"  he  replied  to  M.  de 
Tregars. 

And,  bowing  to  the  ground  before  Mile.  Gilberte,  he 
left  the  parlor;  and,  a  few  moments  after,  the  street- 
door  was  heard  to  close  upon  him. 

"  Ah,  what  a  wretch !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  dreadfully 
agitated. 

"  Marius,  did  you  see  what  a  look  he  gave  us  as  he 
went  out  ?  " 

"  I  saw  it,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  That  man  hates  us :  he  will  not  hesitate  to  commit 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  215 

a  crime  to  avenge  the  atrocious  humiliation  you  have 
just  inflicted  upon  him." 

"  I  believe  it  too." 

Mile.  Gilberte  made  a  gesture  of  distress. 

"  Why  did  you  treat  him  so  harshly  ? "  she  mur- 
mured. 

"  I  had  intended  to  remain  calm,  and  it  would  have 
been  politic  to  have  done  so.  But  there  are  some  in- 
sults which  a  man  of  heart  cannot  endure.  I  do  not 
regret  what  I  have  done." 

A  long  pause  followed ;  and  they  remained  standing, 
facing  each  other,  somewhat  embarrassed.  Mile.  Gil- 
berte felt  ashamed  of  the  disorder  of  her  dress.  M.  de 
Tregars  wondered  how  he  could  have  been  bold  enough 
to  enter  this  house. 

"  You  have  heard  of  our  misfortune,"  said  the  young 
girl  at  last. 

"  I  read  about  it  this  morning,  in  the  papers." 

"  What !  the  papers  know  already  ?  " 

"  Every  thing." 

"  And  our  name  is  printed  in  them?  " 

"  Yes." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  two  hands. 

"  What  disgrace !  "  she  said. 

"  At  first,"  went  on  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  could  hardly 
believe  what  I  read.  I  hastened  to  come ;  and  the  first 
shopkeeper  I  questioned  confirmed  only  too  well  what 
I  had  seen  in  the  papers.  From  that  moment,  I  had  but 
one  wish, — to  see  and  speak  to  you.  When  I  reached 
the  door,  I  recognized  M.  Costeclar's  equipage,  and  I 
had  a  presentiment  of  the  truth.  I  inquired  from  the 
concierge  for  your  mother  or  your  brother,  and  heard 
that  Maxence  had  gone  out  a  few  moments  before,  and 


216  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

that  Mme.  Favoral  had  just  left  in  a  carriage  with  M. 
Chapelain,  the  old  lawyer.  At  the  idea  that  you  were 
alone  with  Costeclar,  I  hesitated  no  longer.  I  ran  up 
stairs,  and,  finding  the  door  open,  had  no  occasion  to 
ring." 

Mile.  Gilberte  could  hardly  repress  the  sobs  that  rose 
to  her  throat. 

"  I  never  hoped  to  see  you  again,"  she  stammered ; 
"  and  you'll  find  there  on  the  table  the  letter  I  had  just 
commenced  for  you  when  M.  Costeclar  interrupted 
me." 

M.  de  Tregars  took  it  up  quickly.  Two  lines  only 
were  written.  He  read :  "  I  release  you  from  your  en- 
gagement, Marius.  Henceforth  you  are  free." 

He  became  whiter  than  his  shirt. 

"  You  wish  to  release  me  from  my  engagement !  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  You  " — 

"  Is  it  not  my  duty  ?  Ah !  if  it  had  only  been  our 
fortune,  I  should  perhaps  have  rejoiced  to  lose  it.  I 
know  your  heart.  Poverty  would  have  brought  us 
nearer  together.  But  it's  honor,  Marius,  honor  that  is 
lost  too !  The  name  I  bear  is  forever  stained.  Whether 
my  father  is  caught,  or  whether  he  escapes,  he  will  be 
tried  all  the  same,  condemned,  and  sentenced  to  a  de- 
grading penalty  for  embezzlement  and  forgery." 

If  M.  de  Tregars  was  allowing  her  to  proceed  thus, 
it  was  because  he  felt  all  his  thoughts  whirling  in  his 
brain ;  because  she  looked  so  beautiful  thus,  all  in  tears, 
and  her  hair  loose ;  because  there  arose  from  her  person 
so  subtle  a  charm,  that  words  failed  him  to  express  the 
sensations  that  agitated  him. 

"  Can  you,"  she  went  on,  "  take  for  your  wife  the 
daughter  of  a  dishonored  man?  No,  you  cannot. 
Forgive  me,  then,  for  having  for  a  moment  turned  away 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  217 

your  life  from  its  object;  forgive  the  sorrow  which  I 
have  caused  you ;  leave  me  to  the  misery  of  my  fate ;  for- 
get me !  " 

She  was  suffocating. 

"  Ah,  you  have  never  loved  me ! "  exclaimed 
Marius. 

Raising  her  hands  to  heaven, — 

"  Thou  hearest  him,  great  God !  "  she  uttered,  as  if 
shocked  by  a  blasphemy. 

"  Would  it  be  easy  for  you  to  forget  me  then  ?  Were 
I  to  be  struck  by  misfortune,  would  you  break  our  en- 
gagement, cease  to  love  me  ?  " 

She  ventured  to  take  his  hands,  and,  pressing  them 
between  hers, — 

"  To  cease  loving  you  no  longer  depends  on  my 
will,"  she  murmured  with  quivering  lips.  "  Poor, 
abandoned  of  all,  disgraced,  criminal  even,  I  should 
love  you  still  and  always." 

With  a  passionate  gesture,  Marius  threw  his  arm 
around  her  waist,  and,  drawing  her  to  his  breast,  cov- 
ered her  blonde  hair  with  burning  kisses. 

"  Well,  'tis  thus  that  I  love  you  too !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"  and  with  all  my  soul,  exclusively,  and  for  life !  What 
do  I  care  for  your  parents  ?  Do  I  know  them  ?  Your 
father — does  he  exist?  Your  name — it  is  mine,  the 
spotless  name  of  the  Tregars.  You  are  my  wife !  mine, 
mine ! " 

She  was  struggling  feebly:  an  almost  invincible 
stupor  was  creeping  over  her.  She  felt  her  reason 
disturbed,  her  energy  giving  way,  a  film  before  her  eyes, 
the  air  failing  to  her  heaving  chest. 

A  great  effort  of  her  will  restored  her  to  conscious- 
ness. She  withdrew  gently,  and  sank  upon  a  chair,  less 
strong  against  joy  than  she  had  been  against  sorrow. 


218  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  stammered,  "  pardon  me  for  hav- 
ing doubted  you !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  was  not  much  less  agitated  than  Mile. 
Gilberte:  but  he  was  a  man;  and  the  springs  of  his 
energy  were  of  a  superior  temper.  In  less  than  a  min- 
ute he  had  fully  recovered  his  self-possession,  and  im- 
posed upon  his  features  their  accustomed  expression. 
Drawing  a  chair  by  the  side  of  Mile.  Gilberte, — 

"  Permit  me,  my  friend,?  he  said,  "  to  remind  you  that 
our  moments  are  numbered,  and  that  there  are  many  de- 
tails which  it  is  urgent  that  I  should  know." 

"  What  details?  ''  she  asked,  raising  her  head. 

"  About  your  father." 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  profound  surprise. 

"  Do  you  not  know  more  about  it  than  I  do  ?  "  she 
replied,  "  more  than  my  mother,  more  than  any  of  us  ? 
Did  you  not,  whilst  following  up  the  people  who  robbed 
your  father,  strike  mine  unwittingly?  And  'tis  I, 
wretch  that  I  am,  who  inspired  you  to  that  fatal  resolu- 
tion ;  and  I  have  not  the  heart  to  regret  it." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  blushed  imperceptibly. 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  he  began. 

"  Was  it  not  said  that  you  were  about  to  marry  Mile. 
de  Thaller?" 

He  drew  up  suddenly. 

"  Never,"  he  exclaimed,  "  has  this  marriage  existed, 
except  in  the  brain  of  M.  de  Thaller,  and,  more  still, 
of  the  Baroness  de  Thaller.  That  ridiculous  idea  oc- 
curred to  her  because  she  likes  my  name,  and  would 
be  delighted  to  see  her  daughter  Marquise  de  Tregars. 
She  has  never  breathed  a  word  of  it  to  me ;  but  she  has 
spoken  of  it  everywhere,  with  just  enough  secrecy  to 
give  rise  to  a  good  piece  of  parlor  gossip.  She  went  so 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  219 

far  as  to  confide  to  several  persons  of  my  acquaintance 
the  amount  of  the  dowry,  thinking  thus  to  encourage 
me.  As  far  as  I  could,  I  warned  you  against  this  false 
news  through  the  Signer  Gismondo." 

"  The  Signer  Gismondo  relieved  me  of  cruel  anx- 
ieties," she  replied ;  "  but  I  had  suspected  the  truth  from 
the  first.  Was  I  not  the  confidante  of  your  hopes  ?  Did 
I  not  know  your  projects?  I  had  taken  for  granted 
that  all  this  talk  about  a  marriage  was  but  a  means  to 
advance  yourself  in  M.  de  Thaller's  intimacy  without 
awaking  his  suspicions." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  not  the  man  to  deny  a  true  fact. 

"  Perhaps,  indeed,  I  have  not  been  wholly  foreign  to 
M.  Favoral's  disaster.  At  least  I  may  have  hastened  it 
a  few  months,  a  few  days  only,  perhaps ;  for  it  was  in- 
evitable, fatal.  Nevertheless,  had  I  suspected  the  real 
facts,  I  would  have  given  up  my  designs — Gilberte,  I 
swear  it — rather  than  risk  injuring  your  father.  There 
is  no  undoing  what  is  done ;  but  the  evil  may,  perhaps, 
be  somewhat  lessened." 

Mile.  Gilberte  started. 

"  Great  heavens !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  do  you,  then, 
believe  my  father  innocent  ?  " 

Better  than  any  one  else,  Mile.  Gilberte  must  have 
been  convinced  of  her  father's  guilt.  Had  she  not  seen 
him  humiliated  and  trembling  before  M.  de  Thaller? 
Had  she  not  heard  him,  as  it  were,  acknowledge  the 
truth  of  the  charge  that  was  brought  against  him  ?  But 
at  twenty  hope  never  forsakes  us,  even  in  presence  of 
facts. 

And  when  she  understood  by  M.  de  Tregars'  silence 
that  she  was  mistaken, — 

"  It's  madness,"  she  murmured,  dropping  her  head : 


220  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  I  feel  it  but  too  well.  But  the  heart  speaks  louder 
than  reason.  It  is  so  cruel  to  be  driven  to  despise 
one's  father !  " 

She  wiped  the  tears  which  filled  her  eyes,  and,  in  a 
firmer  voice, — 

"  What  happens  is  so  incomprehensible !  "  she  went 
on.  "  How  can  I  help  imagining  some  one  of  those 
mysteries  which  time  alone  unravels.  For  twenty- four 
hours  we  have  been  losing  ourselves  in  idle  conjectures, 
and,  always  and  fatally,  we  come  to  this  conclusion, — 
that  my  father  must  be  the  victim  of  some  mysterious 
intrigue. 

"  M.  Chapelain,  whom  a  loss  of  a  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  francs  has  not  made  particularly  indulgent, 
is  of  that  opinion." 

"  And  so  am  I,"  exclaimed  Marius. 

"  You  see,  then  " — 

But  without  allowing  her  to  proceed  and  taking 
gently  her  hand, — 

"  Let  me  tell  you  all,"  he  interrupted,  "  and  try  with 
you  to  find  an  issue  to  this  horrible  situation.  Strange 
rumors  are  afloat  about  M.  Favoral.  It  is  said  that  his 
austerity  was  but  a  mask,  his  sordid  economy  a  means 
of  gaining  confidence.  It  is  affirmed  that  in  fact  he 
abandoned  himself  to  all  sorts  of  disorders ;  that  he  had, 
somewhere  in  Paris,  an  establishment,  where  he  lavished 
the  money  of  which  he  was  so  sparing  here.  Is  it  so? 
The  same  thing  is  said  of  all  those  in  whose  hands  large 
fortunes  have  melted." 

The  young  girl  had  become  quite  red. 

"  I  believe  that  is  true,"  she  replied.  "  The  commis- 
sary of  police  stated  so  to  us.  He  found  among  my 
father's  papers  receipted  bills  for  a  number  of  costly 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  221 

articles,  which  could  only  have  been  intended  for  a 
woman." 

M.  de  Tregars  looked  perplexed. 

"  And  does  any  one  know  who  this  woman  is?  "  he 
asked. 

"  No." 

"  Whoever  she  may  be,  I  admit  that  she  may  have 
cost  M.  Favoral  considerable  sums.  But  can  she  have 
cost  him  twelve  millions  ?  " 

"  Precisely  the  remark  which  M.  Chapelain  made." 

"  And  which  every  sensible  man  must  also  make.  I 
know  very  well  that  to  conceal  for  years  a  considerable 
deficit  is  a  costly  operation,  requiring  purchases  and 
sales,  the  handling  and  shifting  of  funds,  all  of  which 
is  ruinous  in  the  extreme.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  M. 
Favoral  was  making  money,  a  great  deal  of  money.  He 
was  rich :  he  was  supposed  to  be  worth  millions.  Other- 
wise, Costeclar  would  never  have  asked  your  hand." 

"  M.  Chapelain  pretends  that  at  a  certain  time  my 
father  had  at  least  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year." 

"  It's  bewildering." 

For  two  or  three  minutes  M.  de  Tregars  remained 
silent,  reviewing  in  his  mind  every  imaginable  eventu- 
ality, and  then, — 

"  But  no  matter,"  he  resumed.  "  As  soon  as  I  heard 
this  morning  the  amount  of  the  deficit,  doubts  came  to 
my  mind.  And  it  is  for  that  reason,  dear  friend,  that  I 
was  so  anxious  to  see  you  and  speak  to  you.  It  would 
be  necessary  for  me  to  know  exactly  what  occurred  here 
last  night." 

Rapidly,  but  without  omitting  a  single  useful  detail, 
Mile.  Gilberte  narrated  the  scenes  of  the  previous 
night, — the  sudden  appearance  of  M.  de  Thaller,  the 


222     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

arrival  of  the  commissary  of  police,  M.  Favoral's  es- 
cape, thanks  to  Maxence's  presence  of  mind.  Every 
one  of  her  father's  words  had  remained  present  to  her 
mind;  and  it  was  almost  literally  that  she  repeated  his 
strange  speeches  to  his  indignant  friends,  and  his  inco- 
herent remarks  at  the  moment  of  flight,  when,  whilst 
acknowledging  his  fault,  he  said  that  he  was  not  as 
guilty  as  they  thought;  that,  at  any  rate,  he  was  not 
alone  guilty ;  and  that  he  had  been  shamefully  sacrificed. 
When  she  had  finished, — 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  thought,"  said  M.  de  Tregars. 

"What?" 

"  M.  Favoral  accepted  a  role  in  one  of  those  terrible 
financial  dramas  which  ruin  a  thousand  poor  dupes  to 
the  benefit  of  two  or  three  clever  rascals.  Your  father 
wanted  to  be  rich :  he  needed  money  to  carry  on  his  in- 
trigues. He  allowed  himself  to  be  tempted.  But  whilst 
he  believed  himself  one  of  the  managers,  called  upon  to 
divide  the  receipts,  he  was  but  a  scene-shifter  with  a 
stated  salary.  The  moment  of  this  denouement  having 
come,  his  so-called  partners  disappeared  through  a  trap- 
door with  the  cash,  leaving  him  alone,  as  they  say,  to 
face  the  music." 

"  If  that's  the  case,"  replied  the  young  girl,  "  why 
didn't  my  father  speak  ?  " 

"  What  was  he  to  say  ?  " 

"  Name  his  accomplices." 

"  And  suppose  he  had  no  proofs  of  their  complicity 
to  offer?  He  was  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit; 
and  it  is  from  his  cash  that  the  millions  are  gone." 

Mile.  Gilberte's  conjectures  had  run  far  ahead  of  that 
sentence.  Looking  straight  at  Marius, — 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  you  believe,  as  M.  Chapelain 
does,  that  M.  de  Thaller  "— 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  223 

"  Ah !     M.  Chapelain  thinks  "— 

"  That  the  manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  must  have 
known  the  fact  of  the  frauds." 

"  And  that  he  had  his  share  of  them  ?  " 

"  A  larger  share  than  his  cashier,  yes." 

A  singular  smile  curled  M.  de  Tregars'  lips. 

"  Quite  possible,"  he  replied :  "  that's  quite  possible." 

For  the  past  few  moments  Mile.  Gilberte's  embar- 
rassment was  quite  evident  in  her  look.  At  last,  over- 
coming her  hesitation, — 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  she,  "  I  had  imagined  that  M.  de 
Thaller  was  one  of  those  men  whom  you  wished  to 
strike ;  and  I  had  indulged  in  the  hope,  that,  whilst  hav- 
ing justice  done  to  your  father,  you  were  thinking,  per- 
haps, of  avenging  mine." 

M.  de  Tregars  stood  up,  as  if  moved  by  a  spring. 

"  Well,  yes !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Yes,  you  have  cor- 
rectly guessed.  But  how  can  we  obtain  this  double  re- 
sult? A  single  misstep  at  this  moment  might  lose  ail. 
Ah,  if  I  only  knew  your  father's  real  situation;  if  I 
could  only  see  him  and  speak  to  him !  In  one  word  he 
might,  perhaps,  place  in  my  hands  a  sure  weapon, — the 
weapon  that  I  have  as  yet  been  unable  to  find." 

"  Unfortunately,"  replied  Mile.  Gilberte  with  a  ges- 
ture of  despair,  "  w.e  are  without  news  of  my  father ; 
and  he  even  refused  to  tell  us  where  he  expected  to  take 
refuge." 

"  But  he  will  write,  perhaps.  Besides,  we  might 
look  for  him,  quietly,  so  as  not  to  excite  the  suspicions  of 
the  police ;  and  if  your  brother  Maxence  was  only  will- 
ing to  help  me  " — 

"  Alas !  I  fear  that  Maxence  may  have  other  cares. 
He  insisted  upon  going  out  this  morning,  in  spite  of 
mother's  request  to  the  contrary." 


224  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

But  Marius  stopped  her,  and,  in  the  tone  of  a  man 
who  knows  much  more  than  he  is  willing  to  say, — 

"Do  not  calumniate  Maxence,"  he»said:  "it  is 
through  him,  perhaps,  that  we  will  receive  the  help  that 
we  need." 

Eleven  o'clock  struck.     Mile.  Gilberte  started. 

"  Dear  me !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  mother  will  be  home 
directly." 

M.  de  Tregars  might  as  well  have  waited  for  her. 
Henceforth  he  had  nothing  to  conceal.  Yet,  after  duly 
deliberating  with  the  young  girl,  they  decided  that  he 
should  withdraw,  and  that  he  would  send  M.  de  Vil- 
legre  to  declare  his  intentions.  He  then  left,  and,  five 
minutes  later,  Mme.  Favoral  and  M.  Chapelain  ap- 
peared. 

The  ex-attorney  was  furious ;  and  he  threw  the  pack- 
age of  bank-notes  upon  the  table  with  a  movement  of 
rage. 

"  In  order  to  return  them  to  M.  de  Thaller,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  it  was  at  least  necessary  to  see  him.  But 
the  gentleman  is  invisible ;  keeps  himself  under  lock  and 
key,  guarded  by  a  perfect  cloud  of  servants  in  livery." 

Meantime,  Mme.  Favoral  had  approached  her 
daughter. 

"  Your  brother  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"  He  has  not  yet  come  home." 

"  Dear  me !  "  sighed  the  poor  mother :  "  at  such  a 
time  he  forsakes  us,  and  for  whose  sake  ?  " 


XXV. 

MME.  FAVORAL,  usually  so  indulgent,  was  too  severe 
this  time ;  and  it  was  very  unjustly  that  she  accused  her 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  225 

son.  She  forgot,  and  what  mother  does  not  forget,  that 
he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age,  that  he  was  a  man,  and 
that,  outside  of  the  family  and  of  herself,  he  must  have 
his  own  interests  and  his  passions,  his  affections  and  his 
duties.  Because  he  happened  to  leave  the  house  for  a 
few  hours,  Maxence  was  surely  not  forsaking  either  his 
mother  or  his  sister.  It  was  not  without  a  severe  in- 
ternal struggle  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  out, 
and,  as  he  was  going  down  the  steps, — 

"  Poor  mother,"  he  thought.  "  I  am  sure  I  am  mak- 
ing her  very  unhappy ;  but  how  can  I  help  it  ?  " 

This  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  been  in  the  street 
since  his  father's  disaster  had  been  known ;  and  the  im- 
pression produced  upon  him  w.as  painful  in  the  extreme. 
Formerly,  when  he  walked  through  the  Rue  St.  Gilles, 
that  street  where  he  was  born,  and  where  he  used  to 
play  as  a  boy,  every  one  met  him  with  a  friendly  nod  or 
a  familiar  smile.  True  he  was  then  the  son  of  a  man 
rich  and  highly  esteemed;  whereas  this  morning  not  a 
hand  was  extended,  not  a  hat  raised,  on  his  passage. 
People  whispered  among  themselves,  and  pointed  him 
out  with  looks  of  hatred  and  irony.  That  was  because 
he  was  now  the  son  of  the  dishonest  cashier  tracked  by 
the  police,  of  the  man  whose  crime  brought  disaster 
upon  so  many  innocent  parties. 

Mortified  and  ashamed,  Maxence  was  hurrying  on, 
his  head  down,  his  cheek  burning,  his  throat  parched, 
when,  in  front  of  a  wine-shop, — 

"  Halloo !  "  said  a  man ;  "  that's  the  son.  What 
cheek!" 

And  farther  on,  in  front  of  the  grocer's. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  a  woman  in  the  midst  of  a 
group,  "  they  still  have  more  than  we  have." 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  understood  with  what 


226  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

crushing  weight  his  father's  crime  would  weigh  upon 
his  whole  life ;  and,  whilst  going  up  the  Rue  Turenne, — 

"  It's  all  over,"  he  thought :  "  I  can  never  get  over  it." 

And  he  was  thinking  of  changing  his  name,  of  emi- 
grating to  America,  and  hiding  himself  in  the  deserts 
of  the  Far  West,  when,  a  little  farther  on,  he  noticed  a 
group  of  some  thirty  persons  in  front  of  a  newspaper- 
stand.  The  vender,  a  fat  little  man  with  a  red  face  and 
an  impudent  look,  was  crying  in  a  hoarse  voice, — 

"  Here  are  the  morning  papers !  The  last  editions ! 
All  about  the  robbery  of  twelve  millions  by  a  poor 
cashier.  Buy  the  morning  papers !  " 

And,  to  stimulate  the  sale  of  his  wares,  he  added  all 
sorts  of  jokes  of  his  own  invention,  saying  that  the 
thief  belonged  to  the  neighborhood;  that  it  was  quite 
flattering,  etc. 

The  crowd  laughed ;  and  he  went  on, — 

"  The  cashier  Favoral's  robbery !  twelve  millions ! 
Buy  the  paper,  and  see  how  it's  done." 

And  so  the  scandal  was  public,  irreparable.  Max- 
ence  was  listening  a  few  steps  off.  He  felt  like  going ; 
but  an  imperative  feeling,  stronger  than  his  will,  made 
him  anxious  to  see  what  the  papers  said. 

Suddenly  he  made  up  his  mind,  and,  stepping  up 
briskly,  he  threw  down  three  sous,  seized  a  paper,  and 
ran  as  if  they  had  all  known  him. 

"  Not  very  polite,  the  gentleman,"  remarked  two 
idlers  whom  he  had  pushed  a  little  roughly. 

Quick  as  he  had  been,  a  shopkeeper  of  the  Rue  Tu- 
renne had  had  time  to  recognize  him. 

"  Why,  that's  the  cashier's  son !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"  Why  don't  they  arrest  him  ?  " 

Half  a  dozen  curious  fellows,  more  eager  than  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  227 

rest,  ran  after  him  to  try  and  see  his  face.     But  he  was 
already  far  off. 

Leaning  against  a  gas-lamp  on  the  Boulevard,  he  un- 
folded the  paper  he  had  just  bought.  He  had  no  trouble 
looking  for  the  article.  In  the  middle  of  the  first  page, 
in  the  most  prominent  position,  he  read  in  large 
letters, — 

"  ANOTHER  FINANCIAL  DISASTER. 

"  At  the  moment  of  going  to  press,  the  greatest  agita- 
tion prevails  among  the  stock-brokers  and  operators  at 
the  bourse  generally,  owing  to  the  news  that  one  of  our 
great  banking  establishments  has  just  been  the  victim  of 
a  theft  of  unusual  magnitude. 

"  At  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  manager 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  Society,  having  need  of  some 
documents,  went  to  look  for  them  in  the  office  of  the 
head  cashier,  who  was  then  absent.  A  memorandum 
forgotten  on  the  table  excited  his  suspicions.  Sending 
at  once  for  a  locksmith,  he  had  all  the  drawers  broken 
open,  and  soon  acquired  the  irrefutable  evidence  that 
the  Mutual  Credit  had  been  defrauded  of  sums,  which, 
as  far  as  now.  known,  amount  to  upwards  of  twelve 
millions. 

"  At  once  the  police  was  notified ;  and  M.  Brosse, 
commissary  of  police,  duly  provided  with  a  warrant, 
called  at  the  guilty  cashier's  house.  . 

"  That  cashier,  named  Favoral, — we  do  not  hesitate 
to  name  him,  since  his  name  has  already  been  made  pub- 
lic,— had  just  sat  down  to  dinner  with  some  friends. 
Warned,  no  one  knows  how,  he  succeeded  in  escaping 
through  a  window  into  the  yard  of  the  adjoining  house, 
and  up  to  this  hour  has  succeeded  in  eluding  all  search. 

"  It  seems  that  these  embezzlements  had  been  going 
on  for  years,  but  had  been  skilfully  concealed  by  false 
entries. 

"  M.  Favoral  had  managed  to  secure  the  esteem  of 
all  who  knew  him.  He  led  at  home  a  more  than  modest 
existence.  But  that  was  only,  as  it  were,  his  official 
life.  Elsewhere,  and  under  another  name,  he  indulged 


228  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

in  the  most  reckless  expenses  for  the  benefit  of  a  woman 
with  whom  he  was  madly  in  love. 

"  Who  this  woman  is,  is  not  yet  exactly  known. 

"  Some  mention  a  very  fascinating  young  actress, 
who  performs  at  a  theatre  not  a  hundred  miles  from  the 
Rue  Vivienne;  others,  a  lady  of  the  financial  high  life, 
whose  equipages,  diamonds,  and  dresses  are  justly 
famed. 

"  We  might  easily,  in  this  respect,  give  particulars 
which  would  astonish  many  people ;  for  we  know  all; 
but,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  less  well  informed  than  some 
others  of  our  morning  contemporaries,  we  will  observe 
a  silence  which  our  readers  will  surely  appreciate.  We 
do  not  wish  to  add,  by  a  premature  indiscretion,  any 
thing  to  the  grief  of  a  family  already  so  cruelly 
stricken ;  for  M.  Favoral  leaves  behind  him  in  the  deep- 
est sorrow  a  wife  and  tw.o  children, — a  son  of  twenty- 
five,  employed  in  a  railroad  office,  and  a  daughter  of 
twenty,  remarkably  handsome,  who,  a  few  months  ago, 
came  very  near  marrying  M.  C. — 

"  Next  "— 

Tears  of  rage  obscured  Maxence's  sight  whilst  read- 
ing the  last  few  lines  of  this  terrible  article.  To  find 
himself  thus  held  up  to  public  curiosity,  though  inno- 
cent, was  more  than  he  could  bear. 

And  yet  he  was,  perhaps,  still  more  surprised  than  in- 
dignant. He  had  just  learned  in  that  paper  more  than 
his  father's  most  intimate  friends  knew,  more  than  he 
knew  himself.  Where  had  it  got  its  information? 
And  what  could  be  these  other  details  which  the  writer 
pretended  to  know,  but  did  not  wish  to  publish  as  yet? 
Maxence  felt  like  running  to  the  office  of  the  paper, 
fancying  that  they  could  tell  Irm  there  exactly  where 
and  under  what  name  M.  Favoral  led  that  existence  of 
pleasure  and  luxury,  and  who  the  woman  was  to  whom 
the  article  alluded. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  229 

But  in  the  mean  time  he  had  reached  his  hotel, — the 
Hotel  des  Folies.  After  a  moment  of  hesitation, — 

"  Bash !  "  he  thought,  "  I  have  the  whole  day  to  call 
at  the  office  of  the  paper." 

And  he  started  in  the  corridor  of  the  hotel,  a  corridor 
that  was  so  long,  so  dark,  and  so  narrow,  that  it  gave  an 
idea  of  the  shaft  of  a  mine,  and  that  it  was  prudent,  be- 
fore entering  it,  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  coming 
in  the  opposite  direction.  It  was  from  the  neighboring 
theatre,  des  Folies-Nouvelles  (now  the  Theatre  De- 
jazet),  that  the  hotel  had  taken  its  name. 

It  consists  of  the  rear  building  of  a  large  old  house, 
and  has  no  frontage  on  the  Boulevard,  where  nothing 
betrays  its  existence,  except  a  lantern  hung  over  a  low 
and  narrow  door,  between  a  cafe  and  a  confectionery- 
shop.  It  is  one  of  those  hotels,  as  there  are  a  good 
many  in  Paris,  somewhat  mysterious  and  suspicious, 
ill-kept,  and  whose  profits  remain  a  mystery  for  simple- 
minded  folks.  Who  occupy  the  apartments  of  the  first 
and  second  story  ?  No  one  knows.  Never  have  the 
most  curious  of  the  neighbors  discovered  the  face  of  a 
tenant.  And  yet  they  are  occupied;  for  often,  in  the 
afternoon,  a  curtain  is  drawn  aside,  and  a  shadow  is 
seen  to  move.  In  the  evening,  lights  are  noticed 
within ;  and  sometimes  the  sound  of  a  cracked  old  piano 
is  heard. 

Above  the  second  story,  the  mystery  ceases.  All  the 
upper  rooms,  the  price  of  which  is  relatively  modest, 
are  occupied  by  tenants  who  may  be  seen  and  heard, — 
clerks  like  Maxence,  shop-girls  from  the  neighborhood, 
a  few  restaurant-waiters,  and  sometimes  some  poor 
devil  of  an  actor  or  chorus-singer  from  the  Theatre 
Dejazet,  the  Circus,  or  the  Chateau  d'Eau.  One  of  the 
great  advantages  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies — and  Mme. 


230     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Fortin,  the  landlady,  never  failed  to  point  it  out  to  the 
new  tenants,  an  inestimable  advantage,  she  declared — 
was  a  back  entrance  on  the  Rue  Beranger. 

"  And  everybody  knows,"  she  concluded,  "  that  there 
is  no  chance  of  being  caught,  when  one  has  the  good 
luck  of  living  in  a  house  that  has  two  outlets." 

When  Maxence  entered  the  office,  a  small,  dark,  and 
dirty  room,  the  proprietors,  M.  and  Mme.  Fortin  were 
just  finishing  their  breakfast  with  an  immense  bowl  of 
coffee  of  doubtful  color,  of  which  an  enormous  red  cat 
was  taking  a  share. 

"  Ah,  here  is  M.  Favoral !  "  they  exclaimed. 

There  w.as  no  mistaking  their  tone.  They  knew  the 
catastrophe;  and  the  newspaper  lying  on  the  table 
showed  how  they  had  heard  it. 

"  Some  one  called  to  see  you  last  night,"  said  Mme. 
Fortin,  a  large  fat  woman,  whose  nose  was  always  be- 
smeared with  snuff,  and  whose  honeyed  voice  made  a 
marked  contrast  with  her  bird-of-prey  look. 

"Who?" 

"  A  gentleman  of  about  fifty,  tall  and  thin,  with  a  long 
overcoat,  coming  down  to  his  heels." 

Maxence  imagined,  from  this  description,  that  he  rec- 
ognized his  own  father.  And  yet  it  seemed  impossible, 
after  what  had  happened,  that  he  should  dare  to  show 
himself  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  where  everybody 
knew  him,  within  a  step  of  the  Cafe  Turc,  of  which  he 
was  one  of  the  oldest  customers. 

"  At  what  o'clock  was  he  here  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  really  can't  tell,"  answered  the  landlady.  "  I  was 
half  asleep  at  the  time ;  but  Fortin  can  tell  us." 

M.  Fortin,  who  looked  about  twenty  years  younger 
than  his  wife,  was  one  of  those  small  men,  blonde,  with 
scanty  beard,  a  suspicious  glance,  and  uneasy  smile, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  231 

such  as  the  Madame  Fortins  know  how.  to  find,  Heaven 
knows  where. 

"  The  confectioner  had  just  put  up  his  shutters,"  he 
replied :  "  consequently,  it  must  have  been  between 
eleven  and  a  quarter-past  eleven." 

"  And  didn't  he  leave  any  word  ?  "  said  Maxence. 

"  Nothing,  except  that  he  was  very  sorry  not  to  find 
you  in.  And,  in  fact,  he  did  look  quite  annoyed.  We 
asked  him  to  leave  his  name ;  but  he  said  it  wasn't  worth 
while,  and  that  he  would  call  again." 

At  the  glance  which  the  landlady  was  throwing 
toward  him  from  the  corner  of  her  eyes,  Maxence  un- 
derstood that  she  had  on  the  subject  of  that  late  visitor 
the  same  suspicion  as  himself. 

And,  as  if  she  had  intended  to  make  it  more  apparent 
still, — 

"  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  have  given  him  your  key,"  she 
said. 

"  And  why  so,  pray  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  don't  know,  an  idea  of  mine,  that's  all.  Be- 
sides, Mile.  Lucienne  can  probably  tell  you  more  about 
it;  for  she  was  there  when  the  gentleman  came,  and  I 
even  think  that  they  exchanged  a  few  words  in  the 
yard." 

Maxence,  seeing  that  they  were  only  seeking  a  pre- 
text to  question  him,  took  his  key,  and  inquired, — 

"  Is  Mile.  Lucienne  at  home  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell.  She  has  been  going  and  coming  all  the 
morning,  and  I  don't  know  whether  she  finally  staid  in 
or  out.  One  thing  is  sure,  she  waited  for  you  last 
night  until  after  twelve ;  and  she  didn't  like  it  much,  I 
can  tell  you." 

Maxence  started  up  the  steep  stairs;  and,  as  he 
reached  the  upper  stories,  a  woman's  voice,  fresh  -and 


232      OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

beautifully  toned,  reached  his  ears  more  and  more  dis- 
tinctly. 

She  was  singing  a  popular  tune, — one  of  those  songs 
which  are  monthly  put  in  circulation  by  the  singing 
cafes: — 

"  To  hope !  O  charming  word, 
Which,  during  all  life, 
Husband  and  children  and  wife 
Repeat  in  common  accord ! 
When  the  moment  of  success 
From  us  ever  further  slips, 
'Tis  Hope  from  its  rosy  lips 
Whispers,  To-morrow  you  will  bless. 
'Tis  very  nice  to  run, 
But  to  have  is  better  fun." 

"  She  is  in,"  murmured  Maxence,  breathing  more 
freely. 

Reaching  the  fourth  story,  he  stopped  before  the  door 
which  faced  the  stairs,  and  knocked  lightly. 

At  once,  the  voice,  which  had  just  commenced  an- 
other verse  stopped  short,  and  inquired,  "  Who's 
there?" 

"  I,  Maxence !  " 

"  At  this  hour !  "  replied  the  voice  with  an  ironical 
laugh.  "  That's  lucky.  You  have  probably  forgotten 
that  we  were  to  go  to  the  theatre  last  night,  and  start 
for  St.  Germain  at  seven  o'clock  this  morning." 

"  Don't  you  know  then  ?  "  Maxence  began,  as  soon  as 
he  could  put  in  a  word. 

"  I  know  that  you  did  not  come  home  last  night." 

"  Quite  true.     But  when  I  have  told  you  " — 

"  What  ?  the  lie  you  have  imagined  ?  Save  yourself 
the  trouble." 

"  Lucienne,  I  beg  of  you,  open  the  door."  > 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  233 

"  Impossible,  I  am  dressing.  Go  to  your  own  room : 
as  soon  as  I  am  dressed,  I'll  join  you." 

And,  to  cut  short  all  these  explanations,  she  took  up 
her  song  again : — 

"  Hope,  I've  waited  but  too  long 
For  thy  manna  divine ! 
I've  drunk  enough  of  thy  wine, 
And  I  know  thy  siren  song: 
Waiting  for  a  lucky  turn, 
I  have  wasted  my  best  days : 
Take  up  thy  magic-lantern 
And  elsewhere  display  its  rays. 
'Tis  very  nice  to  run, 
But  to  have  is  better  fun !  " 


XXVI. 

IT  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  landing  that  what 
Mme.  Fortin  pompously  called  "  Maxence's  apartment  " 
was  situated. 

It  consisted  of  a  sort  of  antechamber,  almost  as  large 
as  a  handkerchief  (decorated  by  the  Fortins  with  the 
name  of  dining-room),  a  bedroom,  and  a  closet  called  a 
dressing-room  in  the  lease.  Nothing  could  be  more 
gloomy  than  this  lodging,  in  which  the  ragged  paper 
and  soiled  paint  retained  the  traces  of  all  the  wanderers 
who  had  occupied  it  since  the  opening  of  the  Hotel  des 
Folies.  The  dislocated  ceiling  was  scaling  off  in  large 
pieces ;  the  floor  seemed  affected  with  the  dry-rot ;  and 
the  doors  and  windows  were  so  much  warped  and 
sprung,  that  it  required  an  effort  to  close  them.  The 
furniture  was  on  a  par  with  the  rest. 

"  How  everything  does  wear  out !  "   sighed  Mme. 


234  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Fortin.     "  It  isn't  ten  years  since  I  bought  that  furni- 
ture." 

In  point  of  fact  it  was  over  fifteen,  and  even  then  she 
had  bought  it  secondhanded,  and  almost  unfit  for  use. 
The  curtains  retained  but  a  vague  shade  of  their  orig- 
inal color.  The  veneer  was  almost  entirely  off  the  bed- 
stead. Not  a  single  lock  was  in  order,  whether  in  the 
bureau  or  the  secretary.  The  rug  had  become  a  name- 
less rag;  and  the  broken  springs  of  the  sofa,  cutting 
through  the  threadbare  stuff,  stood  up  threateningly 
like  knife-blades. 

The  most  sumptuous  object  was  an  enormous  China 
stove,  which  occupied  almost  one-half  of  the  hall-dining- 
room.  It  could  not  be  used  to  make  a  fire ;  for  it  had 
no  pipe.  Nevertheless,  Mme.  Fortin  refused  obsti- 
nately to  take  it  out,  under  the  pretext  that  it  gave 
such  a  comfortable  appearance  to  the  apartment.  All 
this  elegance  cost  Maxence  forty-five  francs  a  month, 
and  five  francs  for  the  service;  the  whole  payable 
in  advance  from  the  ist  to  the  3d  of  the  month.  If, 
on  the  4th,  a  tenant  came  in  without  money,  Mme.  For- 
tin squarely  refused  him  his  key,  and  invited  him  to 
seek  shelter  elsewhere. 

"  I  have  been  caught  too  often,"  she  replied  to  those 
who  tried  to  obtain  twenty-four  hours'  grace  from  her. 
"  I  wouldn't  trust  my  own  father  till  the  5th,  he  who 
was  a  superior  officer  in  Napoleon's  armies,  and  the 
very  soul  of  honor." 

It  was  chance  alone  which  had  brought  Maxence, 
after  the  Commune,  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies ;  and  he  had 
not  been  there  a  week,  before  he  had  fully  made  up  his 
mind  not  to  wear  out  Mme.  Fortin's  furniture  very  long. 
He  had  even  already  found  another  and  more  suitable 
lodging,  when,  about  a  year  ago,  a  certain  meeting  on 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  235 

the  stairs  had  modified  all  his  views,  and  lent  a  charm 
to  his  apartment  which  he  did  not  suspect. 

As  he  was  going  out  one  morning  to  his  office,  he  met 
on  the  very  landing  a  rather  tall  and  very  dark  girl,  who 
had  just  come  running  up  stairs.  She  passed  before 
him  like  a  flash,  opened  the  opposite  door,  and  disap- 
peared. But,  rapid  as  the  apparition  had  been,  it  had 
left  in  Maxence's  mind  one  of  those  impressions  which 
are  never  obliterated.  He  could  not  think  of  any  thing 
else  the  whole  day;  and  after  business-hours,  instead 
of  going  to  dine  in  Rue  St.  Gilles,  as  usual,  he  sent  a 
despatch  to  his  mother  to  tell  her  not  to  wait  for  him, 
and  bravely  went  home. 

But  it  was  in  vain,  that,  during  the  whole  evening, 
he  kept  watch  behind  his  door,  left  slyly  ajar:  he  did 
not  get  a  glimpse  of  the  neighbor.  Neither  did  she 
show  herself  on  the  next  or  the  three  following  days; 
and  Maxence  was  beginning  to  despair,  when  at  last, 
on  Sunday,  as  he  w.as  going  down  stairs,  he  met  her 
again  face  to  face.  He  had  thought  her  quite  pretty  at 
the  first  glance:  this  time  he  was  dazzled  to  that  ex- 
tent, that  he  remained  for  over  a  minute,  standing  like 
a  statue  against  the  wall. 

And  certainly  it  was  not  her  dress  that  helped  setting 
off  her  beauty.  She  wore  a  poor  dress  of  black  merino, 
a  narrow  collar,  and  plain  cuffs,  and  a  bonnet  of  the 
utmost  simplicity.  She  had  nevertheless  an  air  of  in- 
comparable dignity,  a  grace  that  charmed,,  and  yet  in- 
spired respect,  and  the  carriage  of  a  queen.  This  was 
on  the  3Oth  of  July.  As  he  was  handing  in  his  key, 
before  leaving, — 

"  My  apartment  suits  me  well  enough,"  said  Maxence 
to  Mme.  Fortin :  "  I  shall  keep  it.  And  here  are  fifty 
francs  for  the  month  of  August." 


236  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And,  while  the  landlady  was  making  out  a  receipt, — 

"  You  never  told  me,"  he  began  with  his  most  indif- 
ferent look,  "  that  I  had  a  neighbor." 

Mme.  Fortin  straightened  herself  up  like  an  old  war- 
horse  that  hears  the  sound  of  the  bugle. 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  she  said, — "  Mademoiselle  Lucienne." 

"  Lucienne,"  repeated  Maxence :  "  that's  a  pretty 
name." 

"  Have  you  seen  her?  " 

"  I  have  just  seen  her.     She's  rathqr  good  looking." 

The  worthy  landlady  jumped  on  her  chair. 

"  Rather  good  looking !  "  she  interrupted.  "  You 
must  be  hard  to  please,  my  dear  sir;  for  I,  who  am  a 
judge,  I  affirm  that  you  might  hunt  Paris  over  for  four 
whole  days  without  finding  such  a  handsome  girl. 
Rather  good  looking !  A  girl  who  has  hair  that  comes 
down  to  her  knees,  a  dazzling  complexion,  eyes  as  big 
as  this,  and  teeth  whiter  than  that  cat's.  All  right,  my 
friend.  You'll  wear  out  more  than  one  pair  of  boots 
running  after  women  before  you  catch  one  like  her." 

That  was  exactly  Maxence's  opinion ;  and  yet  with  his 
coldest  look, — 

"  Has  she  been  long  your  tenant,  dear  Mme.  Fortin  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  A  little  over  a  year.  She  w.as  here  during  the 
siege;  and  just  then,  as  she  could  not  pay  her  rent,  I 
was,  of  course,  going  to  send  her  off;  but  she  went 
straight  to  the  commissary  of  police,  who  came  here, 
and  forbade  me  to  turn  out  either  her  or  anybody  else. 
As  if  people  were  not  masters  in  their  own  house !  " 

"  That  was  perfectly  absurd !  "  objected  Maxence, 
who  was  determined  to  gain  the  good  graces  of  the 
landlady. 

"  Never  heard   of   such   a   thing ! "   she   went   on. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  237 

"  Compel  you  to  lodge  people  free !  Why  not  feed  them 
too?  In  short,  she  remained  so  long,  that,  after  the 
Commune,  she  owed  me  a  hundred  and  eighty  francs. 
Then  she  said,  that,  if  I  would  let  her  stay,  she  would 
pay  me  each  month  in  advance,  besides  the  rent,  ten 
francs  on  the  old  account.  I  agreed,  and  she  has  al- 
ready paid  up  twenty  francs." 

"  Poor  girl !  "  said  Maxence. 

But  Mme.  Fortin  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Really,"  she  replied,  "  I  don't  pity  her  much ;  for, 
if  she  only  wanted,  in  forty-eight  hours  I  should  be  paid, 
and  she  would  have  something  else  on  her  back  besides 
that  old  black  rag.  I  tell  her  every  day,  '  In  these  days, 
my  child,  there  is  but  one  reliable  friend,  which  is  better 
than  all  others,  and  which  must  be  taken  as  it  comes, 
without  making  any  faces  if  it  is  a  little  dirty:  that's 
money.'  But  all  my  preaching  goes  for  nothing.  I 
might  as  well  sing." 

Maxence  was  listening  with  intense  delight. 

"  In  short,  what  does  she  do?  "  he  asked. 

"  That's  more  than  I  know,"  replied  Mme.  Fortin. 
"  The  young  lady  has  not  much  to  say.  All  I  know  is, 
that  she  leaves  every  morning  bright  and  early,  and 
rarely  gets  home  before  eleven.  On  Sunday  she  stays 
home,  reading ;  and  sometimes,  in  the  evening,  she  goes 
out,  always  alone,  to  some  theatre  or  ball.  Ah !  she  is 
an  odd  one,  I  tell  you !  " 

A  lodger  who  came  in  interrupted  the  landlady ;  and 
Maxence  walked  off,  dreaming  how  he  could  manage  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  his  pretty  and  eccentric 
neighbor. 

Because  he  had  once  spent  some  hundreds  of  napo- 
leons in  the  company  of  young  ladies  with  yellow  chig- 
nons, Maxence  fancied  himself  a  man  of  experience, 


238  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  had  but  little  faith  in  the  virtue  of  a  girl  of  twenty, 
living  alone  in  a  hotel,  and  left  sole  mistress  of  her  own 
fancy.  He  began  to  watch  for  every  occasion  of  meet- 
ing her ;  and,  towards  the  last  of  the  month,  he  had  got 
so  far  as  to  bow  to  her,  and  to  inquire  after  her  health. 
But,  the  first  time  he  ventured  to  make  love  to  her,  she 
looked  at  him  head  to  foot,  and  turned  her  back  upon 
him  with  so  much  contempt,  that  he  remained,  his 
mouth  wide  open,  perfectly  stupefied. 

"  I  am  losing  my  time  like  a  fool,"  he  thought. 

Great,  then,  was  his  surprise,  when  the  following 
week,  on  a  fine  afternoon,  he  saw  Mile.  Lucienne  leave 
her  room,  no  longer  clad  in  her  eternal  black  dress,  but 
wearing  a  brilliant  and  extremely  rich  toilet.  With  a 
beating  heart  he  followed  her. 

In  front  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies  stood  a  handsome 
carriage  and  horses. 

As  soon  as  Mile.  Lucienne  appeared,  a  footman 
opened  respectfully  the  carriage-door.  She  went  in; 
and  the  horses  started  at  a  full  trot. 

Maxence  watched  the  carriage  disappear  in  the  dis- 
tance, like  a  child  who  sees  the  bird  fly  upon  which  he 
hoped  to  lay  hands. 

"  Gone,"  he  muttered,  "  gone !  " 

But,  when  he  turned  around,  he  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  the  Fortins,  man  and  wife,  who  were  laughing 
a  sinister  laugh. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ? "  exclaimed  Mme  Fortin. 
'  There  she  is,  started  at  last.  Get  up,  horse !  She'll 
do  well,  the  child." 

The  magnificent  equipage  and  elegant  dress  had  al- 
ready produced  quite  an  effect  among  the  neighbors. 
The  customers  sitting  in  front  of  the  cafe  were  laughing 
among  themselves.  The  confectioner  and  his  wife  were 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  239 

casting  indignant  glances  at  the  proprietors  of  the  Hotel 
des  Folies. 

"  You  see,  M.  Favoral,"  replied  Mme.  Fortin,  "  such 
a  girl  as  that  was  not  made  for  our  neighborhood.  You 
must  make  up  your  mind  to  it;  you  won't  see  much 
more  of  her  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple." 

Without  saying  a  word,  Maxence  ran  to  his  room, 
the  hot  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes.  He  felt  ashamed 
of  himself;  for,  after  all,  what  was  this  girl  to  him? 
"  She  is  gone !  "  he  repeated  to  himself.  "  Well, 
good-by,  let  her  go !  " 

But,  despite  all  his  efforts  at  philosophy,  he  felt  an 
immense  sadness  invading  his  heart :  ill-defined  regrets 
and  spasms  of  anger  agitated  him.  He  was  thinking 
what  a  fool  he  had  been  to  believe  in  the  grand  airs  of 
the  young  lady,  and  that,  if  he  had  had  dresses  and 
horses  to  give  her,  she  might  not  have  received  him  so 
harshly.  At  last  he  made  up  his  mind  to  think  no  more 
of  her, — one  of  those  fine  resolutions  which  are  always 
taken,  and  never  kept;  and  in  the  evening  he  left  his 
room  to  go  and  dine  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 

But,  as  was  often  his  custom,  he  stopped  at  the  cafe 
next  door,  and  called  for  a  drink.  He  was  mixing  his 
absinthe  when  he  saw  the  carriage  that  had  carried  off 
Mile.  Lucienne  in  the  morning  returning  at  a  rapid  gait, 
and  stopping  short  in  front  of  the  hotel.  Mile.  Luci- 
enne got  out  slowly,  crossed  the  sidewalk,  and  entered 
the  narrow  corridor.  Almost  immediately,  the  carriage 
turned  around,  and  drove  off. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  thought  Maxence,  who  was 
actually  forgetting  to  swallow  his  absinthe. 

He  was  losing  himself  in  absurd  conjectures,  when, 
some  fifteen  minutes  later,  he  saw  the  girl  coming  out 
again.  Already  she  had  taken  off  her  elegant  clothes, 


240  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  resumed  her  cheap  black  dress.  She  had  a  basket 
on  her  arm,  and  was  going  towards  the  Rue  Chariot. 
Without  further  reflections,  Maxence  rose  suddenly, 
and  started  to  follow  her,  being  very  careful  that  she 
should  not  see  him.  After  walking  for  five  or  six  min- 
utes, she  entered  a  shop,  half -eating  house,  and  half 
wine-shop,  in  the  window  of  which  a  large  sign  could  be 
read:  "Ordinary  at  all  hours  for  forty  centimes. 
Hard  boiled  eggs,  and  salad  of  the  season." 

Maxence,  having  crept  up  as  close  as  he  could,  saw 
Mile.  Lucienne  take  a  tin  box  out  of  her  basket,  and 
have  what  is  called  an  "  ordinaire  "  poured  into  it ;  that 
is,  half  a  pint  of  soup,  a  piece  of  beef  as  large  as  the  fist, 
and  a  few  vegetables.  She  then  had  a  small  bottle  half- 
filled  with  wine,  paid,  and  walked  out  with  that  same 
look  of  grave  dignity  which  she  always  wore. 

"  Funny  dinner,"  murmured  Maxence,  "  for  a  woman 
who  was  spreading  herself  just  now  in  a  ten-thousand- 
franc  carriage." 

From  that  moment  she  became  the  sole  and  only  ob- 
ject of  his  thoughts.  A  passion,  which  he  no  longer 
attempted  to  resist,  was  penetrating  like  a  subtle  poison 
to  the  innermost  depths  of  his  being.  He  thought  him- 
self happy,  when,  after  watching  for  hours,  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  this  singular  creature,  who,  after  that  extra- 
ordinary expedition,  seemed  to  have  resumed  her  usual 
mode  of  life.  Mme.  Fortin  was  dumfounded. 

"  She  has  been  too  exacting,"  she  said  to  Maxence, 
"  and  the  thing  has  fallen  through." 

He  made  no  answer.  He  felt  a  perfect  horror  for  the 
honorable  landlady's  insinuations ;  and  yet  he  never 
ceased  to  repeat  to  himself  that  he  must  be  a  great  sim- 
pleton to  have  faith  for  a  moment  in  that  young  lady's 
virtue.  What  would  he  not  have  given  to  be  able  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  241 

question  her?  But  he  dared  not.  Often  he  would 
gather  up  his  courage,  and  wait  for  her  on  the  stairs; 
but,  as  soon  as  she  fixed  upon  him  her  great  black  eye, 
all  the  phrases  he  had  prepared  took  flight  from  his 
brain,  his  tongue  clove  to  his  mouth,  and  he  could 
barely  succeed  in  stammering  out  a  timid, — 

"  Good-morning,  mademoiselle." 

He  felt  so  angry  with  himself,  that  he  was  almost  on 
the  point  of  leaving  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  when  one 
evening : — 

"  Well,"  said  Mme.  Fortin  to  him,  "  all  is  made  up 
again,  it  seems.  The  beautiful  carriage  called  again  to- 
day." 

Maxence  could  have  beaten  her. 

"  What  good  would  it  do  you,"  he  replied,  "  if  Luci- 
enne  were  to  turn  out  badly  ?  " 

"  It's  always  a  pleasure,"  she  grumbled,  "  to  have  one 
more  woman  to  torment  the  men.  Those  are  the  girls, 
you  see,  who  avenge  us  poor  honest  women !  " 

The  sequel  seemed  at  first  to  justify  her  worst  pre- 
visions. Three  times  during  that  week,  Mile.  Lucienne 
rode  out  in  grand  style ;  but  as  she  always  returned,  and 
always  resumed  her  eternal  black  woolen  dress, — 

"  I  can't  make  head  or  tail  of  it,"  thought  Maxence. 
"  But,  never  mind,  I'll  clear  the  matter  up  yet." 

He  applied,  and  obtained  leave  of  absence;  and  from 
the  very  next  day  he  took  up  a  position  behind  the 
window  of  the  adjoining  cafe.  On  the  first  ,day  he  lost 
his  time ;  but  on  the  second  day,  at  about  three  o'clock, 
the  famous  equipage  made  its  appearance;  and,  a  few 
moments  later,  Mile.  Lucienne  took  a  seat  in  it.  Her 
toilet  was  richer,  and  more  showy  still,  than  the  first 
time.  Maxence  jumped  into  a  cab. 

"  You  see  that  carriage,"  he  said  to  the  coachman. 


242  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Wherever  it  goes,  you  must  follow  it.  I  give  ten 
francs  extra  pay." 

"  All  right !  "  replied  the  driver,  whipping  up  his 
horses. 

And  much  need  he  had,  too,  of  whipping  them ;  for 
the  carriage  that  carried  off  Mile.  Lucienne  started  at 
full  trot  down  the  Boulevards,  to  the  Madeleine,  then 
along  the  Rue  Royale,  and  through  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  to  the  Avenue  des  Champs-Elysees,  where 
the  horses  were  brought  down  to  a  walk.  It  was  the 
end  of  September,  and  one  of  those  lovely  autumnal 
days  which  are  a  last  smile  of  the  blue  sky  and  the  last 
caress  of  the  sun. 

There  were  races  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne;  and  the 
equipages  were  five  and  six  abreast  on  the  avenue.  The 
side-alleys  were  crowded  with  idlers.  Maxence,  from 
the  inside  of  his  cab,  never  lost  sight  of  Mile.  Lucienne. 

She  was  evidently  creating  a  sensation.  The  men 
stopped  to  look  at  her  with  gaping  admiration:  the 
women  leaned  out  of  their  carriages  to  see  her  better. 

"  Where  can  she  be  going?  "  Maxence  wondered. 

She  was  going  to  the  Bois ;  and  soon  her  carriage 
joined  the  interminable  line  of  equipages  which  were 
following  the  grand  drive  at  a  walk.  It  became  easier 
now  to  follow  on  foot.  Maxence  sent  off  his  cab  to 
wait  for  him  at  a  particular  spot,  and  took  the  pedes- 
trians' road,  that  follows  the  edge  of  the  lakes.  He  had 
not  gone  fifty  steps,  however,  before  he  heard  some  one 
call  him.  He  turned  around,  and,  within  two  lengths 
of  his  cane,  saw  M.  Saint  Pavin  and  M.  Costeclar. 
Maxence  hardly  knew  M.  Saint  Pavin,  whom  he  had 
only  seen  two  or  three  times  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  and 
execrated  M.  Costeclar.  Still  he  advanced  towards 
them. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  243 

Mile.  Lucienne's  carriage  was  now  caught  in  the  file ; 
and  he  was  sure  of  joining  it  whenever  he  thought 
proper. 

"  It  is  a  miracle  to  see  you  here,  my  dear  Maxence !  " 
exclaimed  M.  Costeclar,  loud  enough  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  several  persons. 

To  occupy  the  attention  of  others,  anyhow  and  at 
any  cost,  was  M.  Costeclar's  leading  object  in  life.  That 
was  evident  from  the  style  of  his  dress,  the  shape  of  his 
hat,  the  bright  stripes  of  his  shirt,  his  ridiculous  shirt- 
collar,  his  cuffs,  his  boots,  his  gloves,  his  cane,  every 
thing,  in  fact. 

"  If  you  see  us  on  foot,"  he  added,  "  it  is  because  we 
wanted  to  walk  a  little.  The  doctor's  prescription,  my 
dear.  My  carriage  is  yonder,  behind  those  trees.  Do 
you  recognize  my  dapple-grays  ?  "  And  he  extended 
his  cane  in  that  direction,  as  if  he  were  addressing  him- 
self, not  to  Maxence  alone,  but  to  all  those  who  were 
passing  by. 

"  Very  well,  very  well !  everybody  knows  you  have  a 
carriage,"  interrupted  M.  Saint  Pavin. 

The  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot "  was  the  living 
contrast  of  his  companion.  More  slovenly  still  than 
M.  Costeclar  was  careful  of  his  dress,  he  exhibited  cyni- 
cally a  loose  cravat  rolled  over  a  shirt  worn  two  or  three 
days,  a  coat  white  with  lint  and  plush,  muddy  boots, 
though  it  had  not  rained  for  a  week,  and  large  red 
hands,  surprisingly  filthy. 

He  was  but  the  more  proud ;  and  he  wore,  cocked  up 
to  one  side,  a  hat  that  had  not  known  a  brush  since  the 
day  it  had  left  the  hatter's. 

"  That  fellow  Costeclar,"  he  went  on,  "  he  won't 
believe  that  there  are  in  France  a  number  of  people  who 
live  and  die  without  ever  having  owned  a  horse  or  a 


244      OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

coupe;  which  is  a  fact,  nevertheless.  Those  fellow.s 
who  were  born  with  fifty  or  sixty  thousand  francs'  in- 
come in  their  baby-clothes  are  all  alike." 

The  unpleasant  intention  was  "evident ;  but  M.  Coste- 
clar  was  not  the  man  to  get  angry  for  such  a  trifle. 

"  You  are  in  bad  humor  to-day,  old  fellow,"  he  said. 

The  editor  of  "  The  Financial  Pilot "  made  a  threat- 
ening gesture. 

"  Well,  yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  in  bad  humor,  like 
a  man  who  for  ten  years  past  has  been  beating  the  drum 

in  front  of  your  d d  financial  shops,  and  who  does 

not  pay  expenses.  Yes,  for  ten  years  I  have  shouted 
myself  hoarse  for  your  benefit :  '  Walk  in,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  and,  for  every  twenty-cent-piece  you  deposit 
with  us,  we  will  return  you  a  five-franc-piece.  Walk 
in,  follow  the  crowd,  step  up  to  the  office:  this  is  the 
time.'  They  go  in.  You  receive  mountains  of  twenty- 
cent-pieces:  you  never  return  anything,  neither  a  five- 
franc-piece,  nor  even  a  centime.  The  trick  is  done,  the 
public  is  sold.  You  drive  your  own  carriage ;  you  sus- 
pend diamonds  to  your  mistress'  ears ;  and  I,  the  organ- 
izer of  success,  whose  puffs  open  the  tightest  closed 
pockets,  and  start  up  the  old  louis  from  the  bottom  of 
the  old  woolen  stocking, — I  am  driven  to  have  my  boots 
half-soled.  You  stint  me  my  existence;  you  kick  as 
soon  as  I  ask  you  to  pay  for  the  big  drums  bursted  in 
your  behalf." 

He  spoke  so  loud,  that  three  or  four  idlers  had 
stopped.  Without  being  very  shrewd,  Maxence  under- 
stood readily  that  he  had  happened  in  in  the  midst  ~of  an 
acrimonious  discussion.  Closely  pressed,  and  desirous 
of  gaining  time,  M.  Costeclar  had  called  him  in  the 
hopes  of  effecting  a  diversion. 

Bowing,  therefore,  politely, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  245 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  he  said :  "  I  fear  I  have  in- 
terrupted you." 

But  M.  Costeclar  detained  him. 

"  Don't  go,"  he  declared ;  "  you  must  come  down 
and  take  a  class  of  Madeira  with  us,  down  at  the  Cas- 
cade." 

And,  turning  to  the  editor  of  "  The  Pilot  " — 

"  Come,  now,  shut  up,"  he  said :  "  you  shall  have  what 
you  want." 

"Really?" 

"  Upon  my  word." 

"  I'd  rather  have  two  or  three  lines  in  black  and 
white." 

"  I'll  give  them  to  you  to-night." 

"  All  right,  then !  Forward  the  big  guns !  Look 
out  for  next  Sunday's  number !  " 

Peace  being  made,  the  gentlemen  continued  their  walk 
in  the  most  friendly  manner,  M.  Costeclar  pointing  out 
to  Maxence  all  the  celebrities  who  were  passing  by  them 
in  their  carriages. 

He  had  just  designated  to  his  attention  Mme.  and 
Mile,  de  Thaller,  accompanied  by  two  gigantic  foot- 
men, when,  suddenly  interrupting  himself,  and  rising 
on  tiptoe, — 

"Sacre  bleu!"  he  exclaimed:  "what  a  handsome 
woman !  " 

Without  too  much  affectation,  Maxence  fell  back  a 
step  or  two.  He  felt  himself  blushing  to  his  very  ears, 
and  trembled  lest  his  sudden  emotion  were  noticed,  and 
he  were  questioned ;  for  it  was  Mile.  Lucienne  who  thus 
excited  M.  Costeclar's  noisy  enthusiasm.  Once  already 
she  had  been  around  the  lake ;  and  she  was  continuing 
her  circular  drive. 

"  Positively,"  approved  the  editor  of  "  The  Financial 


246  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Pilot,"  "  she  is  somewhat  better  than  the  rest  of  those 
ladies  we  have  just  seen  going  by." 

M.  Costeclar  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  out  what  lit- 
tle hair  he  had  left. 

"  And  I  don't  know  her !  "  he  went  on.  "  A  lovely 
woman  rides  in  the  Bois,  and  I  don't  know  who  she  is ! 
That  is  ridiculous  and  prodigious !  Who  can  post  us  ?  " 

A  little  ways  off  stood  a  group  of  gentlemen,  who  had 
also  just  left  their  carriages,  and  were  looking  on  this 
interminable  procession  of  equipages  and  this  amazing 
display  of  toilets. 

"  They  are  friends  of  mine,"  said  M.  Costeclar :  "  let 
us  join  them." 

They  did  so ;  and,  after  the  usual  greetings, — 

"  Who  is  that?  "  inquired  M.  Costeclar, — "  that  dark 
person,  whose  carriage  follows  Mme.  de  Thaller's  ?  " 

An  old  young  man,  with  scanty  hair,  dyed  beard,  and 
a  most  impudent  smile,  answered  him, — 

"  That's  just  what  we  are  trying  to  find  out.  None 
of  us  have  ever  seen  her." 

"  I  must  and  shall  find  out,"  interrupted  M.  Costeclar. 
"  I  have  a  very  intelligent  servant  " — 

Already  he  was  starting  in  the  direction  of  the  spot 
where  his  carriage  was  waiting  for  him.  The  old  beau 
stopped  him. 

"  Don't  bother  yourself,  my  dear  friend,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  also  a  servant  who  is  no  fool ;  and  he  has  had 
my  orders  for  over  fifteen  minutes." 

The  others  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Distanced,  Costeclar !  "  exclaimed  M.  Saint  Pavin, 
who,  notwithstanding  his  slovenly  dress  and  cynic  man- 
ners, seemed  perfectly  well  received. 

No  one  was  now  paying  any  attention  to  Maxence; 
and  he  slipped  off  without  the  slightest  care  as  to  what 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  247 

M.  Costeclar  might  think.  Reaching  the  spot  where 
his  cab  awaited  him, — 

"  Which  way,  boss  ?  "  inquired  the  driver. 

Maxence  hesitated.  What  better  had  he  to  do  than  to 
go  home  ?  And  yet — 

"  We'll  wait  for  that  same  carriage,"  he  answered ; 
"  and  we'll  follow  it  on  the  return." 

But  he  learned  nothing  further.  Mile.  Lucienne 
drove  straight  to  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  and,  as  be- 
fore, immediately  resumed  her  eternal  black  dress ;  and 
Maxence  saw,  her  go  to  the  little  restaurant  for  her 
modest  dinner. 

But  he  saw  something  else  too. 

Almost  on  the  heels  of  the  girl,  a  servant  in  livery 
entered  the  hotel  corridor,  and  only  went  off  after  re- 
maining a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  in  busy  conference 
with  Mme.  Fortin. 

"  It's  all  over,"  thought  the  poor  fellow.  "  Lucienne 
will  not  be  much  longer  my  neighbor." 

He  was  mistaken.  A  month  went  by  without  bring- 
ing about  any  change.  As  in  the  past,  she  went  out 
early,  came  home  late,  and  on  Sundays  remained  alone 
all  day  in  her  room.  Once  or  twice  a  week,  when  the 
weather  was  fine,  the  carriage  came  for  her  at  about 
three  o'clock,  and  brought  her  home  at  nightfall.  Max- 
ence had  exhausted  all  conjectures,  when  one  evening, 
it  was  the  3ist  of  October,  as  he  was  coming  in  to  go 
to  bed,  he  heard  a  loud  sound  of  voices  in  the  office  of 
the  hotel.  Led  by  an  instinctive  curiosity,  he  ap- 
proached on  tiptoe,  so  as  to  see  and  hear  every  thing. 
The  Fortins  and  Mile.  Lucienne  were  having  a  great 
discussion. 

"  That's  all  nonsense,"  shrieked  the  worthy  landlady ; 
"  and  I  mean  to  be  paid." 


248  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Mile.  Lucienne  was  quite  calm. 

"Well,"  she  replied:  "don't  I  pay  you?  Here  are 
forty  francs, — thirty  in  advance  for  my  room,  and  ten 
on  the  old  account." 

"  I  don't  want  your  ten  francs !  " 

"  What  do  you  want,  then  ?  " 

"  All, — the  hundred  and  fifty  francs  which  you  owe 
me  still." 

The  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  You  forget  our  agreement,"  she  uttered. 

"  Our  agreement  ?  " 

"  Yes.  After  the  Commune,  it  was  understood  that  I 
would  give  you  ten  francs  a  month  on  the  old  account ; 
as  long  as  I  give  them  to  you,  you  have  nothing  to 
ask." 

Crimson  with  rage,  Mme.  Fortin  had  risen  from  her 
seat. 

"  Formerly,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  presumed  I  had  to 
deal  with  a  poor  working-girl,  an  honest  girl." 

Mile.  Lucienne  took  no  notice  of  the  insult. 

"  I  have  not  the  amount  vou  ask,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  Well,  then,"  vociferated  the  other,  "  you  must  go 
and  ask  it  of  those  who  pay  for  your  carriages  and  your 
dresses." 

Still  impassible,  the  girl,  instead  of  answering, 
stretched  her  hand  towards  her  key;  but  M.  Fortin 
stopped  her  arm. 

"  No,  no ! "  he  said  with  a  giggle.  "  People  who 
don't  pay  their  hotel-bill  sleep  out,  my  darling." 

Maxence,  that  very  morning,  had  received  his 
month's  pay,  and  he  felt,  as  it  were,  his  two  hundred 
francs  trembling  in  his  pockets. 

Yielding  to  a  sudden  inspiration,  he  threw  open  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  249 

office-door,  and,  throwing  down  one  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  upon  the  table, — 

"  Here  is  your  money,  wretch !  "  he  exclaimed. 

And  he  withdrew  at  once. 


XXVII. 

MAXENCE  had  not  spoken  to  Mile.  Lucienne  for 
nearly  a  month.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  she 
despised  him  because  he  was  poor.  He  kept  watching 
for  her,  for  he  could  not  help  it ;  but  as  much  as  possible 
he  avoided  her. 

"  I  shall  be  miserable,"  he  thought,  "  the  day  when 
she  does  not  come  home ;  and  yet  it  would  be  the  very 
best  thing  that  could  happen  for  me." 

Nevertheless,  he  spent  all  his  time  trying  to  find  some 
explanations  for  the  conduct  of  this  strange  girl,  who, 
beneath  her  woolen  dress,  had  the  haughty  manners  of 
a  great  lady.  Then  he  delighted  to  imagine  between  her 
and  himself  some  of  those  subjects  of  confidence,  some 
of  those  facilities  which  chance  never  fails  to  supply  to 
attentive  passion,  or  some  event  which  would  enable 
him  to  emerge  from  his  obscurity,  and  to  acquire  some 
rights  by  virtue  of  some  great  service  rendered. 

But  never  had  he  dared  to  hope  for  an  occasion  as 
propitious  as  the  one  he  had  just  seized.  And  yet,  after 
he  had  returned  to  his  room,  he  hardly  dared  to  con- 
gratulate himself  upon  the  promptitude  of  his  decision. 
He  knew  too  well  Mile.  Lucienne's  excessive  pride  and 
sensitive  nature. 

"  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  she  were  angry  with 
me  for  what  I've  done,"  he  thought. 


250  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

The  evening  being  quite  chilly,  he  had  lighted  a  few 
sticks;  and,  sitting  by  the  fireside,  he  was  waiting,  his 
mind  filled  with  vague  hopes.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
his  neighbor  could  not  absolve  herself  from  coming  to 
thank  him ;  and  he  was  listening  intently  to  all  the  noises 
of  the  house,  starting  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  on  the 
stairs,  and  at  the  slamming  of  doors.  Ten  times,  at 
least,  he  went  out  on  tiptoe  to  lean  out  of  the  window 
on  the  landing,  to  make  sure  that  there  was  no  light  in 
Mile.  Lucienne's  room.  At  eleven  o'clock  she  had  not 
yet  come  home;  and  he  was  deliberating  whether  he 
would*  not  start  out  in  quest  of  information,  when  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in !  "  he  cried,  in  a  voice  choked  with  emotion. 

Mile.  Lucienne  came  in.  She  was  somewhat  paler 
than  usual,  but  calm  and  perfectly  self-possessed.  Hav- 
ing bowed  without  the  slightest  shade  of  embarrassment, 
she  laid  upon  the  mantel-piece  the  thirty  five- franc-notes 
which  Maxence  had  thrown  down  to  the  Fortins;  and, 
in  her  most  natural  tone, — 

"  Here  are  your  hundred  and  fifty  francs,  sir,"  she 
uttered.  "  I  am  more  grateful  than  I  can  express  for 
your  prompt  kindness  in  lending  them  to  me ;  but  I  did 
not  need  them." 

Maxence  had  risen  from  his  seat,  and  was  making 
every  effort  to  control  his  own  feelings. 

"  Still,"  he  began,  "  after  what  I  heard  "— 

"  Yes,"  she  interrupted,  "  Mme.  Fortin  and  her  hus- 
band were  trying  to  frighten  me.  But  they  were  losing 
their  time.  When,  after  the  Commune,  I  settled  with 
them  the  manner  in  which  I  would  discharge  my  debt 
towards  them,  having  a  just  estimate  of  their  worth,  I 
made  them  write  out  and  sign  our  agreement.  Being  in 
the  right,  I  could  resist  them,  and  was  resisting  them 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  251 

when  you  threw  them  those  hundred  and  fifty  francs. 
Having  laid  hands  upon  them,  they  had  the  pretension  to 
keep  them.  That's  what  I  could  not  suffer.  Not  being 
able  to  recover  them  by  main  force,  I  went  at  once  to  the 
commissary  of  police.  He  was  luckily  at  his  office.  He 
is  an  honest  man,  who  already,  once  before,  helped  me 
out  of  a  scrape.  He  listened  to  me  kindly,  and  was 
moved  by  my  explanations.  Notwithstanding  the  late- 
ness of  the  hour,  he  put  on  his  overcoat,  and  came  with 
me  to  see  our  landlord.  After  compelling  them  to  return 
me  your  money,  he  signified  to  them  to  observe  strictly 
our  agreement,  under  penalty  of  incurring  his  utmost 
severity." 

Maxence  was  wonderstruck. 

"  How  could  you  dare  ?  "  he  said. 

"Wasn't  I  in  the  right?" 

"  Oh,  a  thousand  times  yes !   Still  " — 

"  What  ?  Should  my  right  be  less  respected  because  I 
am  but  a  woman?  And,  because  T  have  no  one  to  pro- 
tect me,  am  I  outside  the  law,  and  condemned  in  ad- 
vance to  suffer  the  iniquitous  fancies  of  every  scoun- 
drel? No,  thank  Heaven!  Henceforth  I  shall  feel  easy. 
People  like  the  Fortins,  who  live  of  I  know  not  what 
shameful  traffic,  have  too  much  to  fear  from  the  police 
to  dare  to  molest  me  further." 

The  resentment  of  the  insult  could  be  read  in  her 
great  black  eyes ;  and  a  bitter  disgust  contracted  her  lips. 

"  Besides,"  she  added,  "  the  commissary  had  no  need 
of  my  explanations  to  understand  what  abject  inspira- 
tions the  Fortins  were  following.  The  wretches  had  in 
their  pocket  the  wages  of  their  infamy.  In  refusing  me 
my  key,  in  throwing  me  out  in  the  street  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night,  they  hoped  to  drive  me  to  seek  the  assistance 
of  the  base  coward  who  paid  their  odious  treason.  And 


252  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

we  know  the  price  which  men  demand  for  the  slightest 
service  they  render  to  a  woman." 

Maxence  turned  pale.  The  idea  flashed  upon  his  mind 
that  it  was  to  him,  perhaps,  that  these  last  words  were 
addressed. 

"  Ah,  I  swear  it !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  without  after- 
thought that  I  tried  to  help  you.  You  do  not  owe  me 
any  thanks  even." 

"  I  do  not  thank  you  any  the  less,  though,"  she  said 
gently,  "  and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  " — 

"  It  was  so  little !  " 

"  Intention  alone  makes  the  value  of  a  service,  neigh- 
bor. And,  besides,  do  not  say  that  a  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  are  nothing  to  you:  perhaps  you  do  not  earn 
much  more  each  month." 

"  I  confess  it,"  he  said,  blushing  a  little. 

"  You  see,  then  ?  No,  it  was  not  to  you  that  my  words 
were  addressed,  but  to  the  man  who  has  paid  the  Fortins. 
He  was  waiting  on  the  Boulevard,  the  result  of  the  ma- 
noeuvre, which,  they  thought,  was  about  to  place  me  at 
his  mercy.  He  ran  quickly  to  me  when  I  went  out,  and 
followed  me  all  the  way  to  the  office  of  the  commissary 
of  police,  as  he  follows  me  everywhere  for  the  past 
month,  with  his  sickening  gallantries  and  his  degrading 
propositions." 

The  eye  flashing  with  anger, — 

"  Ah,  if  I  had  known !  "  exclaimed  Maxence.  "  If 
you  had  told  me  but  a  word !  " 

She  smiled  at  his  vehemence. 

"  What  would  you  have  done  ?  "  she  said.  "  You  can- 
not impart  intelligence  to  a  fool,  heart  to  a  coward,  or 
delicacy  of  feeling  to  a  boor." 

"  I  could  have  chastised  the  miserable  insulter." 

She  had  a  superb  gesture  of  indifference. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  253 

"  Bash !  "  she  interrupted.  "  What  are  insults  to  me? 
I  am  so  accustomed  to  them,  that  they  no  longer  have 
any  effect  upon  me.  I  am  eighteen :  I  have  neither  fam- 
ily, relatives,  friends,  nor  any  one  in  the  world  who  even 
knows  my  existence ;  and  I  live  by  my  labor.  Can't  you 
see  what  must  be  the  humiliations  of  each  day  ?  Since  I 
was  eight  years  old,  I  have  been  earning  the  bread  I  eat, 
the  dress  I  wear,  and  the  rent  of  the  den  where  I  sleep. 
Can  you  understand  what  I  have  endured,  to  what  ig- 
nominies I  have  been  exposed, -what  traps  have  been  set 
for  me,  and  how  it  has  happened  to  me  sometimes  to 
owe  my  safety  to  mere  physical  force  ?  And  yet  I  do  not 
complain,  since  through  it  all  I  have  been  able  to  retain 
the  respect  of  myself,  and  to  remain  virtuous  in  spite 
of  all." 

She  was  laughing  a  laugh  that  had  something  wild  in 
it. 

And,  as  Maxence  was  looking  at  her  .with  immense 
surprise, — 

"  That  seems  strange  to  you,  doesn't  it  ? "  she  re- 
sumed. "  A  girl  of  eighteen,  without  a  sou,  free  as  air, 
very  pretty,  and  yet  virtuous  in  the  midst  of  Paris. 
Probably  you  don't  believe  it,  or,  if  you  do,  you  just 
think,  '  What  on  earth  does  she  make  by  it  ? ' 

"  And  really  you  are  right ;  for,  after  all,  who  cares, 
'  and  who  thinks  any  the  more  of  me,  if  I  work  sixteen 
hours  a  day  to  remain  virtuous  ?  But  it's  a  fancy  of  my 
own ;  and  don't  imagine  for  a  moment  that  I  am  deterred 
by  any  scruples,  or  by  timidity,  or  ignorance.  No,  no ! 
I  believe  in  nothing.  I  fear  nothing;  and  I  know  as 
much  as  the  oldest  libertines,  the  most  vicious,  and  the 
most  depraved.  And  I  don't  say  that  I  have  not  been 
tempted  sometimes,  when,  coming  home  from  work,  I'd 
see  some  of  them  coming  out  of  the  restaurants,  splen- 


254  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

didly  dressed,  on  their  lover's  arm,  and  getting  into  car- 
riages to  go  to  the  theatre.  There  were  moments  when 
I  was  cold  and  hungry,  and  when,  not  knowing  where 
to  sleep,  I  wandered  all  night  through  the  streets  like 
a  lost  dog.  There  were  hours  when  I  felt  sick  of  all 
this  misery,  and  when  I  said  to  myself,  that,  since  it  was 
my  fate  to  end  in  the  hospital,  I  might  as  well  make  the 
trip  gayly.  But  what !  I  should  have  had  to  traffic  my 
person,  to  sell  myself !  " 

She  shuddered,  and  in  a  hoarse  voice, — 

"  I  would  rather  die,"  she  said. 

It  was  difficult  to  reconcile  words  such  as  these  with 
certain  circumstances  of  Mile.  Lucienne's  existence, — 
her  rides  around  the  lake,  for  instance,  in  that  carriage 
that  came  for  her  two  or  three  times  a  week;  her  ever 
renewed  costumes,  each  time  more  eccentric  and  more 
showy.  But  Maxence  was  not  thinking  of  that.  What 
she  told  him  he  accepted  as  absolutely  true  and  indis- 
putable. And  he  felt  penetrated  with  an  almost  religious 
admiration  for  this  young  and  beautiful  girl,  possessed 
of  so  much  vivid  energy,  who  alone,  through  the 
hazards,  the  perils,  and  the  temptations  of  Paris,  had 
succeeded  in  protecting  and  defending  herself. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  without  suspecting  it,  you  had 
a  friend  near  you." 

She  shuddered ;  and  a  pale  smile  flitted  upon  her  lips. 
She  knew  well  enough  what  friendship  means  between 
a  youth  of  twenty-five  and  a  girl  of  eighteen. 

"  A  friend !  "  she  murmured. 

Maxence  guessed  her  thought;  and,  in  all  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  soul, — 

"  Yes,  a  friend,"  he  repeated,  "  a  comrade,  a  brother." 

And  thinking  to  touch  her,  and  gain  her  confidence, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  255 

"  I  could  understand  you,"  he  added ;  "  for  I,  too, 
have  been  very  unhappy." 

But  he  was  singularly  mistaken.  She  looked  at  him 
with  an  astonished  air,  and  slowly, — 

"  You  unhappy !  "  she  uttered, — "  you  who  have  a 
family,  relations,  a  mother  who  adores  you,  a  sister." 

Less  excited,  Maxence  might  have  wondered  how  she 
had  found  this  out,  and  would  have  concluded  that  she 
must  feel  some  interest  in  him,  since  she  had  doubtless 
taken  the  trouble  of  getting  information. 

"  Besides,  you  are  a  man,"  she  went  on ;  "  and  I  do 
not  understand  how  a  man  can  complain.  Have  you  not 
the  freedom,  the  strength,  and  the  right  to  undertake 
and  to  dare  any  thing?  Isn't  the  world  open  to  your 
activity  and  to  your  ambition?  Woman  submits  to  her 
fate :  man  makes  his." 

This  was  hurting  the  dearest  pretensions  of  Maxence, 
who  seriously  thought  that  he  had  exhausted  the  rigors 
of  adversity. 

"  There  are  circumstances,"  he  began. 

But  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  gently,  and,  inter- 
rupting him, — 

"  Do  not  insist,"  she  said,  "  or  else  I  might  think  that 
you  lack  energy.  What  are  you  talking  of  circum- 
stances? There  are  none  so  adverse  but  that  can  be 
overcome.  What  would  you  like,  then  ?  To  be  born  with 
a  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  have  nothing  to 
do  but  to  live  according  to  your  whim  of  each  day,  idle, 
satiated,  a  burden  upon  yourself,  useless,  or  offensive  to 
others?  Ah!  If  I  were  a  man,  I  would  dream  of  an- 
other fate.  I  should  like  to  start  from  the  Foundling 
Asylum,  without  a  name,  and  by  my  will,  my  intelli- 
gence, my  daring,  and  my  labor,  make  something  and 


256  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

somebody  of  myself.  I  would  start  from  nothing,  and 
become  every  thing !  " 

With  flashing  eyes  and  quivering  nostrils,  she  drew 
herself  up  proudly.  But  almost  at  once,  dropping  her 
head, — 

"  The  misfortune  is,"  she  added,  "  that  I  am  but  a 
woman ;  and  you  who  complain,  if  you  only  knew  " — 

She  sat  down,  and  with  her  elbow  on  the  little  table, 
her  head  resting  upon  her  hand,  she  remained  lost  in 
her  meditations,  her  eyes  fixed,  as  if  following  through 
space  all  the  phases  of  the  eighteen  years  of  her  life. 

There  is  no  energy  but  unbends  at  some  given  mo- 
ment, no  will  but  has  its  hour  of  weakness ;  and,  strong 
and  energetic  as  was  Mile.  Lucienne,  she  had  been 
deeply  touched  by  Maxence's  act.  Had  she,  then,  found 
at  last  upon  her  path  the  companion  of  whom  she  had 
often  dreamed  in  the  despairing  hours  of  solitude  and 
wretchedness?  After  a  few  moments,  she  raised  her 
head,  and,  looking  into  Maxence's  eyes  with  a  gaze  that 
made  him  quiver  like  the  shock  of  an  electric  battery, — 

"  Doubtless,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  indifference  some- 
what forced,  "  you  think  you  have  in  me  a  strange 
neighbor.  Well,  as  between  neighbors,  it  is  well  to  know 
each  other.  Before  you  judge  me,  listen." 

The  recommendation  was  useless.  Maxence  was 
listening  with  all  the  powers  of  his  attention. 

"  I  was  brought  up,"  she  began,  "  in  a  village  of  the 
neighborhood  of  Paris, — in  Louveciennes.  My  mother 
had  put  me  out  to  nurse  with  some  honest  gardeners, 
poor,  and  burdened  with  a  large  family.  After  two 
months,  hearing  nothing  of  my  mother,  they  wrote  to 
her :  she  made  no  answer.  They  then  went  to  Paris,  and 
called  at  the  address  she  had  given  them.  She  had  just 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  257 

moved  out ;  and  no  one  knew  what  had  become  of  her. 
They  could  no  longer,  therefore,  expect  a  single  sou  for 
the  cares  they  would  bestow  upon  me.  They  kept  me, 
nevertheless,  thinking  that  one  child  the  more  would  not 
make  much  difference.  I  know  nothing  of  my  parents, 
therefore,  except  what  I  heard  through  these  kind  gar- 
deners ;  and,  as  I  was  still  quite  young  when  I  had  the 
misfortune  to  lose  them,  I  have  but  a  very  vague  remem- 
brance of  what  they  told  me.  I  remember  very  well, 
however,  that  according  to  their  statements,  my  mother 
was  a  young  working-woman  of  rare  beauty,  and  that, 
very  likely,  she  was  not  my  father's  wife.  If  I  was  ever 
told  the  name  of  my  mother  or  my  father,  if  I  ever  knew 
it,  I  have  quite  forgotten  it.  I  had  myself  no  name.  My 
adopted  parents  called  me  the  Parisian.  I  was  happy, 
nevertheless,  with  these  kind  people,  and  treated  exactly 
like  their  own  children.  In  winter,  they  sent  me  to 
school;  in  summer,  I  helped  weeding  the  garden.  I 
drove  a  sheep  or  two  along  the  road,  or  else  I  went  to 
gather  violets  and  strawberries  through  the  woods. 

"  This  was  the  happiest,  indeed,  the  only  happy  time 
of  my  life,  towards  which  my  thoughts  may  turn  when  I 
feel  despair  and  discouragement  getting  the  better  of 
me.  Alas !  I  was  but  eight,  when,  within  the  same  week, 
the  gardener  and  his  wife  were  both  carried  off  by  the 
same  disease, — inflammation  of  the  lungs. 

"  On  a  freezing  December  morning,  in  that  house 
upon  which  the  hand  of  death  had  just  fallen,  we  found 
ourselves,  six  children,  the  oldest  of  whom  was  not 
eleven,  crying  with  grief,  fright,  cold,  and  hunger. 

"  Neither  the  gardener  nor  his  wife  had  any  rela- 
tives ;  and  they  left  nothing  but  a  few  wretched  pieces 
of  furniture,  the  sale  of  which  barely  sufficed  to  pay 


258  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  expenses  of  their  funeral.  The  two  younger  children 
were  taken  to  an  asylum :  the  others  were  taken  charge 
of  by  the  neighbors. 

"  It  was  a  laundress  of  Marly  who  took  me.  I  was 
quite  tall  and  strong  for  my  age.  She  made  an  appren- 
tice of  me.  She  was  not  unkind  by  nature ;  but  she  was 
violent  and  brutal  in  the  extreme.  She  compelled  me  to 
do  an  excessive  amount  of  work,  and  often  of  a  kind 
above  my  strength. 

"  Fifty  times  a  day,  I  had  to  go  from  the  river  to  the 
house,  carrying  on  my  shoulders  enormous  bundles  of 
wet  napkins  or  sheets,  wring  them,  spread  them  out, 
and  then  run  to  Rueil  to  get  the  soiled  clothes  from  the 
customers.  I  did  not  complain  (I  was  already  too  proud 
to  complain)  ;  but,  if  I  was  ordered  to  do  something 
that  seemed  to  me  too  unjust,  I  refused  obstinately  to 
obey,  and  then  I  was  unmercifully  beaten.  In  spite  of 
all,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  become  attached  to  the 
woman,  had  she  not  had  the  disgusting  habit  of  drink- 
ing. Every  week  regularly,  on  the  day  when  she  took 
the  clothes  to  Paris  (it  was  on  Wednesdays),  she  came 
home  drunk.  And  then,  according  as,  with  the  fumes 
of  the  wine,  anger  or  gayety  rose  to  her  brain,  there 
were  atrocious  scenes  or  obscene  jests. 

"  When  she  was  in  that  condition,  she  inspired  me 
with  horror.  And  one  Wednesday,  as  I  showed  my 
feelings  too  plainly,  she  struck  me  so  hard,  that  she 
broke  my  arm.  I  had  been  with  her  for  twenty  months. 
The  injury  she  had  done  me  sobered  her  at  once.  She 
became  frightened,  overpowered  me  with  caresses,  beg- 
ging me  to  say  nothing  to  any  one.  I  promised,  and 
kept  faithfully  my  word. 

"  But  a  physician  had  to  be  called  in.  There  had  been 
witnesses  who  spoke.  The  story  spread  along  the  river, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  259 

as  far  as  Bougival  and  Rueil.  And  one  morning  an  offi- 
cer of  gendarmes  called  at  the  house;  and  I  don't  ex- 
actly know  what  would  have  happened,  if  I  had  not  ob- 
stinately maintained  that  I  had  broken  my  arm  in  falling 
down  stairs." 

What  surprised  Maxence  most  was  Mile.  Lucienne's 
simple  and  natural  tone.  No  emphasis,  scarcely  an  ap- 
pearance of  emotion.  One  might  have  thought  it  was 
somebody's  else  life  that  she  was  narrating. 

Meantime  she  was  going  on, — 

"  Thanks  to  my  obstinate  denials  the  woman  was  not 
disturbed.  But  the  truth  was  known ;  and  her  reputation, 
which  was  not  good  before,  became  altogether  bad.  I 
became  an  object  of  interest.  The  very  same  people  who 
had  seen  me  twenty  times  staggering  painfully  under  a 
load  of  wet  clothes,  which  was  terrible,  began  to  pity  me 
prodigiously  because  I  had  had  an  arm  broken,  which 
was  nothing. 

"  At  last  a  number  of  our  customers  arranged  to  take 
me  out  of  a  house,  in  which,  they  said,  I  must  end  by 
perishing  under  bad  treatment. 

"  And,  after  many  fruitless  efforts,  they  discovered, 
at  last,  at  La  Jonchere,  an  old  Jewess  lady,  very  rich, 
and  a  widow  without  children,  who  consented  to  take 
charge  of  me. 

"  I  hesitated  at  first  to  accept  these  offers ;  but  noticing 
that  the  laundress,  since  she  had  hurt  me,  had  conceived 
a  still  greater  aversion  for  me,  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
leave  her. 

"  It  was  on  the  day  when  I  was  introduced  to  my  new 
mistress  that  I  first  discovered  I  had  no  name.  After 
examining  me  at  length,  turning  me  around  and  around, 
making  me  walk,  and  sit  down, — 

"  '  Now,'  she  inquired,  '  what  is  your  name  ?  ' 


260  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  I  stared  at  her  in  surprise ;  for  indeed  I  was  then 
like  a  savage,  not  having  the  slightest  notions  of  the 
things  of  life. 

"  '  My  name  is  the  Parisian/  I  replied. 

"  She  burst  out  laughing,  as  also  another  old  lady,  a 
friend  of  hers,  who  assisted  at  my  presentation ;  and  I 
remember  that  my  little  pride  was  quite  offended  at 
their  hilarity.  I  thought  they  were  laughing  at  me. 

"  '  That's  not  a  name,'  they  said  at  last.  '  That's  a 
nickname.' 

"  '  I  have  no  other.' 

"  They  seemed  dumfounded,  repeating  over  and 
over  that  such  a  thing  was  unheard  of ;  and  on  the  spot 
they  began  to  look  for  a  name  for  me. 

"  '  Where  were  you  born ! '  inquired  my  new  mistress. 

( '  At  Louveciennes.' 

"  '  Very  well,'  said  the  other :  '  let  us  call  her  Louve- 
cienne.' 

"  A  long  discussion  followed,  which  irritated  me  so 
much  that  I  felt  like  running  away;  and  it  was  agreed 
at  last,  that  I  should  be  called,  not  Louvecienne,  but 
Lucienne;  and  Lucienne  I  have  remained. 

"  There  was  nothing  said  about  baptism,  since  my  new 
mistress  was  a  Jewess. 

"  She  was  an  excellent  woman,  although  the  grief 
she  had  felt  at  the  loss  of  her  husband  had  somewhat  de- 
ranged her  faculties. 

"  As  soon  as  it  was  decided  that  I  was  to  remain,  she 
desired  to  inspect  my  trousseau.  I  had  none  to  show 
her,  possessing  nothing  in  the  world  but  the  rags  on  my 
back.  As  long  as  I  had  remained  with  the  laundress,  I 
had  finished  wearing  out  her  old  dresses;  and  I  had 
never  worn  any  other  under-clothing  save  that  which  I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  261 

borrowed,   '  by  authority,'   from  the  clients, — an  eco- 
nomical system  adopted  by  many  laundresses. 

"  Dismayed  at  my  state  of  destitution,  my  new  mis- 
tress sent  for  a  seamstress,  and  at  once  ordered  where- 
with to  dress  and  change  me. 

"  Since  the  death  of  the  poor  gardeners,  this  was  the 
first  time  that  any  one  paid  any  attention  to  me,  ex- 
cept to  exact  some  service  of  me.  I  was  moved  to 
tears ;  and,  in  the  excess  of  my  gratitude,  I  would  gladly 
have  died  for  that  kind  old  lady. 

"  This  feeling  gave  me  the  courage  and  the  con- 
stancy required  to  bear  with  her  whimsical  nature.  She 
had  singular  manias,  disconcerting  fancies,  ridiculous 
and  often  exorbitant  exactions.  I  lent  myself  to  it  all  as 
best  I  could. 

"  As  she  already  had  two  servants,  a  cook  and  a 
chambermaid,  I  had  myself  no  special  duties  in  the 
house.  I  accompanied  her  when  she  went  out  riding.  I 
helped  to  wait  on  her  at  table,  and  to  dress  her.  I  picked 
up  her  handkerchief  when  she  dropped  it;  and,  above 
all,  I  looked  for  her  snuff-box,  which  she  was  continu- 
ally mislaying. 

"  She  was  pleased  with  my  docility,  took  much  in- 
terest in  me,  and,  that  I  might  read  to  her,  she  made 
me  learn  to  read,  for  I  hardly  knew  my  letters.  And  the 
old  man  whom  she  gave  me  for  a  teacher,  finding  me  in- 
telligent, taught  me  all  he  knew,  I  imagine,  of  French, 
of  geography,  and  of  history. 

"  The  chambermaid,  on  the  other  hand,  had  been 
commissioned  to  teach  me  to  sew,  to  embroider,  and  to 
execute  all  sorts  of  fancy-work ;  and  she  took  the  more 
interest  in  her  lessons,  that  little  by  little  she  shifted 
upon  me  the  most  tedious  part  of  her  work. 


262  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  I  would  have  been  happy  in  that  pretty  house  at  La 
Jonchere,  if  I  had  only  had  some  society  better  suited  to 
my  age  than  the  old  women  with  whom  I  was  compelled 
to  live,  and  who  scolded  me  for  a  loud  word  or  a  some- 
what abrupt  gesture.  What  would  I  not  have  given  to 
have  been  allowed  to  play  with  the  young  girls  whom  I 
saw  on  Sundays  passing  in  crowds  along  the  road ! 

"  As  time  went  on,  my  old  mistress  became  more  and 
more  attached  to  me,  and  endeavored  in  every  way  to 
give  me  proofs  of  her  affection.  I  sat  at  table  with  her, 
instead  of  waiting  on  her,  as  at  first.  She  had  given  me 
clothes,  so  that  she  could  take  me  and  introduce  me 
anywhere. 

"  She  went  about  repeating  everywhere  that  she  was 
as  fond  of  me  as  of  a  daughter;  that  she  intended  to 
set  me  up  in  life ;  and  that  certainly  she  would  leave  a 
part  of  her  fortune  to  me. 

"  Alas !  She  said  it  too  loud,  for  my  misfortune, — so 
loud,  that  the  news  reached  at  last  the  ears  of  some 
nephews  of  hers  in  Paris,  who  ca'me  once  in  a  while  to 
La  Jonchere. 

"  They  had  never  paid  much  attention  to  me  up  to  this 
time.  Those  speeches  opened  their  eyes :  they  noticed 
what  progress  I  had  made  in  the  heart  of  their  relative ; 
and  their  cupidity  became  alarmed. 

"  Trembling  lest  they  should  lose  an  inheritance 
which  they  considered  as  theirs,  they  united  against  me, 
determined  to  put  a  stop  to  their  aunt's  generous  inten- 
tions by  having  me  sent  off. 

"  But  it  was  in  vain,  that,  for  nearly  a  year,  their 
hatred  exhausted  itself  in  skilful  manoeuvres. 

"  The  instinct  of  preservation  stimulating  my  perspi- 
cacity I  had  penetrated  their  intentions,  and  I  was  strug- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  263 

gling  with  all  my  might.  Every  day,  to  make  myself 
more  indispensable,  I  invented  some  novel  attention. 

"  They  only  came  once  a  week  to  La  Jonchere :  I 
was  there  all  the  time.  I  had  the  advantage.  I  struggled 
successfully,  and  was  probably  approaching  the  end  of 
my  troubles,  when  my  poor  old  mistress  was  taken  sick. 
After  forty-eight  hours,  she  was  very  low.  She  was 
fully  conscious,  but  for  that  very  reason  she  could  ap- 
preciate the  danger;  and  the  fear  of  death  made  her 
crazy. 

"Her  nieces  had  come  to  sit  by  her  bedside;  and  I 
was  expressly  forbidden  to  enter  the  room.  They  had 
understood  that  this  was  an  excellent  opportunity  to 
get  rid  of  me  forever. 

"  Evidently  gained  in  advance,  the  physicians  declared 
to  my  poor  benefactress  that  the  air  of  La  Jonchere  was 
fatal  to  her,  and  that  her  only  chance  of  recovery  was  to 
establish  herself  in  Paris.  One  of  her  nephews  offered 
to  have  her  taken  to  his  house  in  a  litter.  She  would 
soon  get  well,  they  said ;  and  she  could  then  go  to  finish 
her  convalescence  in  seme  southern  city. 

"  Her  first  word  was  for  me.  She  did  not  wish  to  be 
separated  from  me,  she  protested,  and  insisted  abso- 
lutely upon  taking  me  with  her.  Her  nephews  repre- 
sented gravely  to  her  that  this  was  an  impossibility; 
that  she  must  not  think  of  burdening  herself  with  me ; 
that  the  simplest  thing  was  to  leave  me  at  La  Jonchere  ; 
and  that,  moreover,  they  would  see  that  I  should  get  a 
good  situation. 

"  The  sick  woman  struggled  for  a  long  time,  and 
with  an  energy  of  which  I  would  not  have  thought  her 
capable. 

"  But  the  others  were  pressing.    The  physicians  kept 


264  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

repeating  that  they  could  not  answer  for  any  thing,  if 
she  did  not  follow  their  advice.  She  was  afraid  of  death. 
She  yielded,  weeping. 

"  The  very  next  morning,  a  sort  of  litter,  carried  by 
eight  men,  stopped  in  front  of  the  door.  My  poor 
mistress  was  laid  into  it;  and  they  carried  her  off, 
without  even  permitting  me  to  kiss  her  for  the  last 
time. 

"  Two  hours  later,  the  cook  and  the  chambermaid 
were  dismissed.  As  to  myself,  the  nephew  who  had 
promised  to  look  after  me  put  a  twenty-franc-piece  in 
my  hand  saying,  '  Here  are  your  eight  days  in  advance. 
Pack  up  your  things  immediately,  and  clear  out ! ' ' 

It  was  impossible  that  Mile.  Lucienne  should  not  be 
deeply  moved  whilst  thus  stirring  the  ashes  of  her  past. 
She  showed  no  evidence  of  it,  however,  except,  now  and 
then,  a  slight  alteration  in  her  voice. 

As  to  Maxence,  he  would  vainly  have  tried  to  conceal 
the  passionate  interest  with  which  he  was  listening  to 
these  unexpected  confidences. 

"  Have  you,  then,  never  seen  your  benefactress 
again  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Never,"  replied  Mile.  Lucienne.  "  All  my  efforts 
to  reach  her  have  proved  fruitless.  She  does  not  live  in 
Paris  now.  I  have  written  to  her:  my  letters  have  re- 
mained without  answer.  Did  she  ever  get  them?  I 
think  not.  Something  tells  me  that  she  has  not  forgotten 
me." 

She  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  collecting 
herself  before  resuming  the  thread  of  her  narrative.  And 
then,— 

"  It  was  thus  brutally,"  she  resumed,  "  that  I  was 
sent  off.  It  would  have  been  useless  to  beg,  I  knew; 
and,  moreover,  I  have  never  known  how  to  beg.  I  piled 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  263 

up  hurriedly  in  two  trunks  and  in  some  bandboxes  all  1 
had  in  the  world, — all  I  had  received  from  the  gener- 
osity of  my  poor  mistress;  and,  before  the  stated  hour, 
I  was  ready.  The  cook  and  the  chambermaid  had  al- 
ready gone.  The  man  who  was  treating  me  so  cruelly 
was  waiting  for  me.  He  helped  me  carry  out  my  boxes 
and  trunks,  after  which  he  locked  the  door,  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket ;  and,  as  the  American  omnibus  was  pass- 
ing, he  beckoned  to  it  to  stop.  And  then,  before  entering 
it  — 

"  '  Good  luck,  my  pretty  girl ! '  he  said  with  a  laugh. 

"  This  was  in  the  month  of  January,  1866.  I  was  just 
thirteen.  I  have  had  since  more  terrible  trials,  and  I 
have  found  myself  in  much  more  desperate  situations: 
but  I  do  not  remember  ever  feeling  such  intense  dis- 
couragement as  I  did  that  day,  when  I  found  myself 
alone  upon  that  road,  not  knowing  which  way  to  go. 
I  sat  down  on  one  of  my  trunks.  The  weather  was  cold 
and  gloomy :  there  were  few  persons  on  the-  road.  They 
looked  at  me,  doubtless  wondering  what  I  was  doing 
there.  I  wept.  I  had  a  vague  feeling  that  the  well-meant 
kindness  of  my  poor  benefactress,  in  bestowing  upon 
me  the  blessings  of  education,  would  in  reality  prove  a 
serious  impediment  in  the  life-struggle  which  I  was 
about  to  begin  again.  I  thought  of  what  I  suffered  with 
the  laundress ;  and,  at  the  idea  of  the  tortures  which  the 
future  still  held  in  store  for  me,  I  desired  death.  The 
Seine  was  near :  why  not  put  an  end  at  once  to  the  mis- 
erable existence  which  I  foresaw  ? 

"  Such  were  my  reflections,  when  a  woman  from 
Rueil,  a  vegetable- vender,  whom  I  knew  by  sight,  hap- 
pened to  pass,  pushing  her  hand-cart  before  her  over 
the  muddy  pavement.  She  stopped  when  she  saw  me; 
and,  in  the  softest  voice  she  could  command, 


266  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  '  What  are  you  doing  there,  my  darling  ?  '  she 
asked. 

"  In  a  few  words  I  explained  to  her  my  situation.  She 
seemed  more  surprised  than  moved. 

"  '  Such  is  life/  she  remarked, — '  sometimes  up, 
sometimes  down.' 

"  And,  stepping  up  nearer, — 

"  '  What  do  you  expect  to  do  now  ?  '  she  interrogated 
in  a  tone  of  voice  so  different  from  that  in  which  she 
had  spoken  at  first,  that  I  felt  more  keenly  the  horror  of 
my  altered  situation. 

1 '  I  have  no  idea/  I  replied. 

"  After  thinking  for  a  moment, — 

"  '  You  can't  stay  there/  she  resumed :  *  the  gend- 
armes would  arrest  you.  Come  with  me.  We  will  talk 
things  over  at  the  house;  and  I'll  give  you  my  advice.' 

"  I  was  so  completely  crushed,  that  I  had  neither 
strength  nor  will.  Besides,  what  was  the  use  of  think- 
ing? Had  I  any  choice  of  resolutions?  Finally,  the 
woman's  offer  seemed  to  me  a  last  favor  of  destiny. 

"  '  I  shall  do  as  you  say,  madame/  I  replied. 

"  She  proceeded  at  once  to  load  up  my  little  baggage 
on  her  cart.  We  started ;  and  soon  we  arrived  '  home.' 

"  What  she  called  thus  was  a  sort  of  cellar,  at  least 
twelve  inches  lower  than  the  street,  receiving  its  only 
light  through  the  glass  door,  in  which  several  broken 
panes  had  been  replaced  by  sheets  of  paper.  It  was  re- 
voltingly  filthy,  and  filled  with  a  sickening  odor.  On  all 
sides  were  heaps  of  vegetables, — cabbages,  potatoes, 
onions.  In  one  corner  a  nameless  heap  of  decaying  rags, 
which  she  called  her  bed;  in  the  centre,  a  small  cast- 
iron  stove,  the  worn-out  pipe  of  which  allowed  the 
smoke  to  escape  in  the  room. 

"  '  Anyway/  she  said  to  me, '  you  have  a  home  now ! ' 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  267 

"  I  helped  her  to  unload  the  cart.  She  filled  the  stove 
with  coal,  and  at  once  declared  that  she  wanted  to  in- 
spect my  things. 

"  My  trunks  were  opened ;  and  it  was  with  exclama- 
tions of  surprise  that  the  woman  handled  my  dresses,  my 
skirts,  my  stockings. 

"  '  The  mischief! '  she  exclaimed,  'you  dressed  well, 
didn't  you  ? ' 

"  Her  eyes  sparkled  so,  that  a  strong  feeling  of  mis- 
trust arose  in  my  mind.  She  seemed  to  consider  all  my 
property  as  an  unexpected  godsend  to  herself.  Her 
hands  trembled  as  she  handled  some  piece  of  jewelry; 
and  she  took  me  to  the  light  that  she  might  better  esti- 
mate the  value  of  my  ear-rings. 

"  And  so,  when  she  asked  me  if  I  had  any  money,  de- 
termined to  hide  at  least  my  twenty- franc-piece,  which 
was  my  sole  fortune,  I  replied  boldly,  '  No.' 

"  '  That's  a  pity,'  she  grumbled. 

"  But  she  wished  to  know  my  history,  and  I  was  com- 
pelled to  tell  it  to  her.  One  thing  only  surprised  her, — 
my  age ;  and  in  fact,  though  only  thirteen,  I  looked  fully 
sixteen. 

"  When  I  had  done, — 

"  '  Never  mind ! '  she  said.  '  It  was  lucky  for  you  that 
you  met  me.  You  are  at  least  certain  now  of  eating 
every  day ;  for  I  am  going  to  take  charge  of  you.  I  am 
getting  old :  you'll  help  me  to  drag  my  cart.  If  you  are 
as  smart  as  you  are  pretty,  we'll  make  money/ 

"  Nothing  could  suit  me  less.  But  how  could  I  resist  ? 
She  threw  a  few  rags  upon  the  floor ;  and  on  them  I  had 
to  sleep.  The  next  day,  wearing  my  meanest  dress,  and 
a  pair  of  wooden  shoes  which  she  had  bought  for  me, 
and  which  bruised  my  feet  horribly,  I  had  to  harness 
myself  to  the  cart  by  means  of  a  leather  strap,  which  cut 


268  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

my  shoulders  and  my  chest.  She  was  an  abominable 
creature,  that  woman;  and  I  soon  found  out  that  her 
repulsive  features  indicated  but  too  well  her  ignoble  in- 
stincts. After  leading  a  life  of  vice  and  shame,  she  had, 
with  the  approach  of  old  age,  fallen  into  the  most  abject 
poverty,  and  had  adopted  the  trade  of  vegetable-vender, 
which  she  carried  on  just  enough  to  escape  absolute 
starvation.  Enraged  at  her  fate,  she  found  a  detestable 
pleasure  in  ill-treating  me,  or  in  endeavoring  to  stain 
my  imagination  by  the  foulest  speeches. 

"  Ah,  if  I  had  only  known  where  to  fly,  and  where 
to  take  refuge !  But,  abusing  my  ignorance,  that  execra- 
ble woman  had  persuaded  me,  that,  if  I  attempted  to  go 
out  alone,  I  would  be  arrested.  And  I  knew  no  one  to 
whom  I  could  apply  for  protection  and  advice.  And 
then  I  began  to  learn  that  beauty,  to  a  poor  girl,  is  a 
fatal  gift.  One  by  one,  the  woman  had  sold  every  thing 
I  had, — dresses,  underclothes,  jewels ;  and  I  was  now  re- 
duced to  rags  almost  as  mean  as  when  I  was  with  th§ 
laundress. 

"  Every  morning,  rain  or  shine,  hot  or  cold,  we 
started,  wheeling  our  cart  from  village  to  village,  all 
along  the  Seine,  from  Courbevoie  to  Pont-Marly.  I 
could  see  no  end  to  this  wretched  existence,  when  one 
evening  the  commissary  of  police  presented  himself  at 
our  hovel,  and  ordered  us  to  follow  him. 
"We  were  taken  to  prison;  and  there  I  found  myself 
thrown  among  some  hundred  women,  whose  faces, 
words,  and  gestures  frightened  me.  The  vegetable- 
woman  had  committed  a  theft;  and  I  was  accused  of 
complicity.  Fortunately  I  was  easily  able  to  demonstrate 
my  innocence;  and,  at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  a  jailer 
opened  the  door  to  me,  saying,  '  Go :  you  are  free ! ' ' 

Maxence  understood  now  the  gently  ironical  smile 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  269 

with  which  Mile.  Lucienne  had  heard  him  assert  that  he, 
too,  had  been  very  unhappy.  What  a  life  hers  had  been ! 
And  how  could  such  things  be  within  a  step  of  Paris, 
in  the  midst  of  a  society  which  deems  its  organization 
too  perfect  to  consent  to  modify  it ! 

Mile.  Lucienne  went  on,  speaking  somewhat  faster, — 

"  I  was  indeed  free ;  but  of  what  use  could  my  free- 
dom be  to  me?  I  knew  not  which  way  to  go.  A  me- 
chanical instinct  took  me  back  to  Rueil.  I  fancied 
I  would  be  safer  among  people  who  all  knew  me,  and 
that  I  might  find  shelter  in  our  old  lodgings.  But  this 
last  hope  was  disappointed.  Immediately  after  our  ar- 
rest, the  owner  of  the  building  had  thrown  out  every 
thing  it  contained,  and  had  rented  it  to  a  hideous  beggar, 
who  offered  me,  with  a  giggle,  to  become  his  house- 
keeper. I  ran  off  as  fast  as  I  could. 

"  The  situation  was  certainly  more  horrible  now  than 
the  day  when  I  had  been  turned  out  of  my  benefactress' 
house.  But  the  eight  months  I  had  just  spent  with  the 
horrible  woman  had  taught  me  anew  how  to  bear  misery, 
and  had  nerved  up  my  energy. 

"  I  took  out  from  a  fold  of  my  dress,  where  I  had 
kept  it  constantly  hid,  the  twenty-franc-piece  I  had  re- 
ceived ;  and,  as  I  was  hungry,  I  entered  a  sort  of  eating 
and  lodging  house,  where  I  had  occasionally  taken  a 
meal.  The  proprietor  was  a  kind-hearted  man.  When  I 
had  told  him  my  situation,  he  invited  me  to  remain  with 
him  until  I  could  find  something  better.  On  Sundays 
and  Mondays  the  customers  were  plenty;  and  he  was 
obliged  to  take  an  extra  servant.  He  offered  me  that 
work  to  do,  promising,  in  exchange,  my  lodging  and  one 
meal  a  day.  I  accepted.  The  next  day  being  Sunday, 
I  commenced  the  arduous  duties  of  a  bar-maid  in  a  low 
drinking  house.  My  pourboires  amounted  sometimes  to 


270  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

five  or  ten  francs ;  I  had  my  board  and  lodging  free ;  and 
at  the  end  of  three  months  I  had  been  able  to  provide 
myself  with  some  decent  clothing,  and  was  commencing 
to  accumulate  a  little  reserve,  when  the  lodging-house 
keeper,  whose  business  had  unexpectedly  developed 
itself  to  a  considerable  extent,  concluded  to  engage  a 
man-waiter,  and  urged  me  to  look  elsewhere  for  work.  I 
did  so.  An  old  neighbor  of  ours  told  me  of  a  situation 
at  Bougival,  where  she  said  I  would  be  very  comfortable. 
Overcoming  my  repugnance,  I  applied,  and  was  ac- 
cepted. I  was  to  get  thirty  francs  a  month. 

"  The  place  might  have  been  a  good  one.  There  were 
only  three  in  the  family, — the  gentleman  and  his  wife, 
and  a  son  of  twenty-five.  Every  morning,  father  and 
son  left  for  Paris  by  the  first  train,  and  only  came  home 
to  dinner  at  about  six  o'clock.  I  was  therefore  alone 
all  day  with  the  woman.  Unfortunately,  she  was  a 
cross  and  disagreeable  person,  who,  never  having  had 
a  servant  before,  felt  an  insatiable  desire  of  showing 
and  exercising  her  authority.  She  was,  moreover,  ex- 
tremely suspicious,  and  found  some  pretext  to  visit  regu- 
larly my  trunks  once  or  twice  a  week,  to  see  if  I 
had  not  concealed  some  of  her  napkins  or  silver  spoons. 
Having  told  her  that  I  had  once  been  a  laundress,  she 
made  me  wash  and  iron  all  the  clothes  in  the  house,  and 
was  forever  accusing  me  of  using  too  much  soap  and  too 
much  coal.  Still  I  liked  the  place  well  enough;  and  I 
had  a  little  room  in  the  attic,  which  I  thought  charming, 
and  where  I  spent  delightful  evenings  reading  or  sew- 
ing. 

"  But  luck  was  against  me.  The  young  gentleman 
of  the  house  took  a  fancy  to  me,  and  determined  to  make 
me  his  mistress.  I  discouraged  him  in  a  way;  but  he 
persisted  in  his  loathsome  attention,  until  one  night  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     271 

broke  into  my  room,  and  I  was  compelled  to  shout  for 
help  with  all  my  might,  before  I  could  get  rid  of  him. 

"  The  next  day  I  left  that  house ;  but  I  tried  in  vain 
to  find  another  situation  in  Bougival.  I  resolved  then  to 
seek  a  place  in  Paris.  I  had  a  big  trunk  full  of  good 
clothes,  and  about  a  hundred  francs  of  savings;  and  I 
felt  no  anxiety. 

"  When  I  arrived  in  Paris,  I  went  straight  to  an  in- 
telligence-office. I  was  extremely  well  received  by  a 
very  affable  old  woman  who  promised  to  get  me  a  good 
place,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  solicited  me  to  board  with 
her.  She  kept  a  sort  of  boarding-house  for  servants 
out  of  place;  and  there  were  there  some  fifty  or  sixty 
of  us,  who  slept  at  night  in  long  dormitories. 

"  Time  went  by,  and  still  I  did  not  find  that  famous 
place.  The  board  was  expensive,  too,  for  my  scanty 
means;  and  I  determined  to  leave.  I  started  in  quest 
of  new  lodgings,  followed  by  a  porter,  carrying  my 
trunk ;  but  as  I  was  crossing  the  Boulevard,  not  getting 
quick  enough  out  of  the  way  of  a  handsome  private 
carriage  which  was  coming  at  full  trot,  I  was  knocked 
down,  and  trampled  under  the  horses's  feet." 

Without  allowing  Maxence  to  interrupt  her, — 

"  I  had  lost  consciousness,"  went  on  Mile.  Lucienne. 
"  When  I  came  to  my  senses,  I  was  sitting  in  a  drug- 
store ;  and  three  or  four  persons  were  busy  around  me. 
I  had  no  fracture,  but  only  some  severe  contusions,  and 
a  deep  cut  on  the  head. 

"  The  physician  who  had  attended  me  requested  me 
to  try  and  walk ;  but  I  could  not  even  stand  on  my  feet. 
Then  he  asked  me  where  I  lived,  that  I  might  be  taken 
there;  and  I  was  compelled  to  own  that  I  was  a  poor 
servant  out  of  placej  without  a  home  or  a  friend  to  care 
for  me. 


272  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

" '  In  that  case,'  said  the  doctor  to  the  druggist,  '  we 
must  send  her  to  the  hospital.' 

"  And  they  sent  for  a  cab. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  quite  a  crowd  had  gathered  out- 
side, and  the  conduct  of  the  person  who  was  in  the  car- 
riage that  had  run  over  me  was  being  indignantly  criti- 
cised. It  was  a  woman ;  and  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her  at  the  very  moment  I  was  falling  under  the  horses' 
feet.  She  had  not  even  condescended  to  get  out  of  her 
carriage ;  but,  calling  a  policeman,  she  had  given  him  her 
name  and  address,  adding,  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by 
the  crowd, '  I  am  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  stop.  My  coach- 
man is  an  awkward  fellow,  whom  I  shall  dismiss  as  soon 
as  I  get  home.  I  am  ready  to  pay  any  thing  that  may  be 
asked.' 

"  She  had  also  sent  one  of  her  cards  for  me.  A  po- 
liceman handed  it  to  me ;  and  I  read  the  name,  Baronne 
de  Thaller. 

"  '  That's  lucky  for  you/  said  the  doctor.  '  That  lady 
is  the  wife  of  a  very  rich  banker;  and  she  will  be  able 
to  help  you  when  you  get  well.' 

"  The  cab  had  now  come.  I  was  carried  into  it ;  and, 
an  hour  later,  I  was  admitted  at  the  hospital,  and  laid 
on  a  clean,  comfortable  bed. 

"  But  my  trunk ! — my  trunk,  which  contained  all 
my  things,  all  I  had  in  the  world,  and,  worse  still,  all 
the  money  I  had  left.  I  asked  for  it,  my  heart  filled  with 
anxiety.  No  one  had  either  seen  or  heard  of  it.  Had 
the  porter  missed  me  in  the  crowd?  or  had  he  basely 
availed  himself  of  the  accident  to  rob  me?  This  was 
hard  to  decide. 

"  The  good  sisters  promised  that  they  would  have  it 
looked  after,  and  that  the  police  would  certainly  be  able 
to  find  that  man  whom  I  had  engaged  near  the  intelli- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     273 

gence-office.  But  all  these  assurances  failed  to  console 
me.  'This  blow  was  the  finishing  one.  I  was  taken 
with  fever;  and  for  more  than  two  weeks  my  life  was 
despaired  of.  I  was  saved  at  last:  but  my  convales- 
cence was  long  and  tedious ;  and  for  over  two  months  I 
lingered  with  alternations  of  better  and  of  worse. 

"  Yet  such  had  been  my  misery  for  the  past  two  years, 
that  this  gloomy  stay  in  a  hospital  was  for  me  like  an 
oasis  in  the  desert.  The  good  sisters  were  very  kind 
to  me ;  and,  when  I  was  able,  I  helped  them  with  their 
lighter  work,  or  went  to  the  chapel  with  them.  I  shud- 
dered at  the  thought  that  I  must  leave  them  as  soon  as 
I  was  entirely  well;  and  then  what  would  become  of 
me  ?  For  my  trunk  had  not  been  found,  and  I  was  des- 
titute of  all. 

"  And  yet  I  had,  at  the  hospital,  more  than  one  sub- 
ject for  gloomy  reflections.  Twice  a  week,  on  Thurs- 
days and  Sundays,  visitors  were  admitted;  and  there 
was  not  on  those  days  a  single  patient  who  did  not  re- 
ceive a  relative  or  a  friend.  But  I,  no  one,  nothing, 
never ! 

"  But  I  am  mistaken.  I  was  commencing  to  get  well, 
when  one  Sunday  I  saw  by  my  bedside  an  old  man, 
dressed  all  in  black,  of  alarming  appearance,  wearing 
blue  spectacles,  and  holding  under  his  arm  an  enormous 
portfolio,  crammed  full  of  papers. 

"  '  You  are  Mile.  Lucienne,  I  believe,'  he  asked. 

"  '  Yes/  I  replied,  quite  surprised. 

" '  You  are  the  person  who  was  knocked  down  by 
a  carriage  on  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard  and  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Martin  ? ' 

" '  Yes  sir.' 

Do  you  know  whose  equipage  that  was  ?  * 

"  '  The  Baronne  de  Thaller's,  I  was  told/ 


274  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  He  seemed  a  little  surprised,  but  at  once, — 

"  '  Have  you  seen  that  lady,  or  caused  her  to  be  seen 
>n  your  behalf  ?  ' 

"  '  No/ 

"  '  Have  you  heard  from  her  in  any  manner  ? ' 

"'No.' 

"  A  smile  came  back  upon  his  lips. 

"  '  Luckily  for  you  I  am  here,'  he  said.  '  Several 
times  already  I  have  called ;  but  you  were  too  unwell  to 
hear  me.  Now  that  you  are  better,  listen.' 

"  And  thereupon,  taking  a  chair,  he  commenced  to 
explain  his  profession  to  me. 

"  He  was  a  sort  of  broker ;  and  accidents  were  his 
specialty.  As  soon  as  one  took  place,  he  was  notified 
by  some  friends  of  his  at  police  headquarters.  At  once 
he  started  in  quest  of  the  victim,  overtook  her  at  home 
or  at  the  hospital,  and  offered  his  services.  For  a  mod- 
erate commission  he  undertook,  if  needs  be,  to  recover 
damages.  He  commenced  suit  when  necessary ;  and, 
if  he  thought  the  case  tolerably  safe,  he  made  advances. 
He  stated,  for  instance,  that  my  case  was  a  plain  one,  and 
that  he  would  undertake  to  obtain  four  or  five  thousand 
francs,  at  least,  from  Mme.  de  Thaller.  All  he  wanted 
was  my  power  of  attorney.  But,  in  spite  of  his  pressing 
instances,  I  declined  his  offers;  and  he  withdrew,  very 
much  displeased,  assuring  me  that  I  would  soon  repent. 

"  Upon  second  thought,  indeed,  I  regretted  to  have 
followed  the  first  inspiration  of  my  pride,  and  the  more 
so,  that  the  good  sisters  whom  I  consulted  on  the  sub- 
ject told  me  that  I  was  wrong,  and  that  my  reclamation 
would  be  perfectly  proper.  At  their  suggestion,  I  then 
adopted  another  line  of  conduct,  which,  they  thought, 
would  as  surely  bring  about  the  same  result. 

"  As  briefly  as  possible,  I  wrote  out  the  history  of 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  275 

my  life  from  the  day  I  had  been  left  with  the  gardeners 
at  Louveciennes.  I  added  to  it  a  faithful  account  of  my 
present  situation;  and  I  addressed  the  whole  to  Mme. 
de  Thaller. 

"  '  You'll  see  if  she  don't  come  before  a  day  or  two,' 
said  the  sisters. 

"  They  were  mistaken.  Mme.  de  Thaller  came  neither 
the  next  nor  the  following  days ;  and  I  was  still  awaiting 
her  answer,  when,  one  morning,  the  doctor  announced 
that  I  was  well  enough  to  leave  the  hpspital. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  was  very  sorry.  I  had  lately 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  young  workwoman,  who  had 
been  sent  to  the  hospital  in  consequence  of  a  fall,  and 
who  occupied  the  bed  next  to  mine.  She  was  a  girl  of 
about  twenty,  very  gentle,  very  obliging,  and  whose 
amiable  countenance  had  attracted  me  from  the  first. 

"  Like  myself,  she  had  no  parents.  But  she  was  rich, 
very  rich.  She  owned  the  furniture  of  the  room,  a 
sewing-machine,  which  had  cost  her  three  hundred 
francs,  and,  like  a  true  child  of  Paris,  she  understood 
five  or  six  trades,  the  least  lucrative  of  which  yielded 
her  twenty-five  or  thirty  cents  a  day.  In  less  than  a 
week,  we  had  become  good  friends ;  and,  when  she  left 
the  hospital, — 

"  '  Believe  me,'  she  said :  '  when  you  come  out  your- 
self, don't  waste  your  time  looking  for  a  place.  Come 
to  me:  I  can  accommodate  you.  I'll  teach  you  what  I 
know ;  and,  if  you  are  industrious,  you'll  make  your 
living,  and  you'll  be  free.' 

"  It  was  to  her  room  that  I  went  straight  from  the 
hospital,  carrying,  tied  in  a  handkerchief,  my  entire  bag- 
gage,— one  dress,  and  a  few  undergarments  that  the 
good  sisters  had  given  me. 

"  She  received  me  like  a  sister,  and  after  showing 


276  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

me  her  lodging,  two  little  attic-rooms  shining  with  clean- 
liness,— 

"  '  You'll  see/  she  said,  kissing  me,  '  how  happy  we'll 
be  here.' " 

It  was  getting  late.  M.  Fortin  had  long  ago  come 
up  and  put  out  the  gas  on  the  stairs.  One  by  one,  every 
noise  had  died  away  in  the  hotel.  Nothing  now  dis- 
turbed the  silence  of  the  night  save  the  distant  sound  of 
some  belated  cab  on  the  Boulevard.  But  neither  Max- 
ence  nor  Mile.  Lucienne  were  noticing  the  flight  of 
time,  so  interested  were  they,  one  in  telling,  and  the  other 
in  listening  to,  this  story  of  a  wonderful  existence. 
However,  Mile.  Lucienne's  voice  had  become  hoarse 
with  fatigue.  She  poured  herself  a  glass  of  water, 
which  she  emptied  at  a  draught,  and  then  at  once, — 

"  Never  yet,"  she  resumed,  "  had  I  been  agitated  by 
such  a  sweet  sensation.  My  eyes  were  full  of  tears; 
but  they  were  tears  of  gratitude  and  joy.  After  so 
many  years  of  isolation,  to  meet  with  such  a  friend,  so 
generous,  and  so  devoted :  it  was  like  finding  a  family. 
For  a  few  weeks,  I  thought  that  fate  had  relented  at 
last.  My  friend  was  an  excellent  workwoman;  but 
with  some  intelligence,  and  the  will  to  learn,  I  soon  knew 
as  much  as  she  did. 

"  There  was  plenty  of  work.  By  working  twelve 
hours,  with  the  help  of  the  thrice-blessed  sewing-ma- 
chine, we  succeeded  in  making  six,  seven,  and  even 
eight  francs  a  day.  It  was  a  fortune. 

"  Thus  several  months  elapsed  in  comparative  com- 
fort. 

"  Once  more  I  was  afloat,  and  I  had  more  clothes  than 
I  had  lost  in  my  trunk.  I  liked  the  life  I  was  leading; 
and  I  would  be  leading  it  still,  if  my  friend  had  not  one 
day  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  a  young  man  she  had 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  277 

met  at  a  ball.  I  disliked  him  very  much,  and  took  no 
trouble  to  conceal  my  feelings :  nevertheless,  my  friend 
imagined  that  I  had  designs  upon  him,  and  became 
fiercely  jealous  of  me.  Jealousy  does  not  reason;  and  I 
soon  understood  that  we  would  no  longer  be  able  to  live 
in  common,  and  that  I  must  look  elsewhere  for  shelter. 
But  my  friend  gave  me  no  time  to  do  so. 

"  Coming  home  one  Monday  night  at  about  eleven, 
she  notified  me  to  clear  out  at  once.  I  attempted  to  ex- 
postulate: she  replied  with  abuse.  Rather  than  enter 
upon  a  degrading  struggle,  I  yielded,  and  went  out. 

"  That  night  I  spent  on  a  chair  in  a  neighbor's  room. 
But  the  next  day,  when  I  went  for  my  things,  my  former 
friend  refused  to  give  them,  and  presumed  to  keep  every 
thing.  I  was  compelled,  though  reluctantly,  to  resort 
to  the  intervention  of  the  commissary  of  police. 

"  I  gained  my  point.  But  the  good  days  had  gone. 
Luck  did  not  follow  me  to  the  wretched  furnished  house 
where  I  hired  a  room.  I  had  no  sewing-machine,  and 
but  few  acquaintances.  By  working  fifteen  or  sixteen 
hours  a  day,  I  made  thirty  or  forty  cents.  That  was  not 
enough  to  live  on.  Then  work  failed  me  altogether, 
and,  piece  by  piece,  every  thing  I  had  went  to  the  pawn- 
broker's. On  a  gloomy  December  morning,  I  was  turned 
out  of  my  room,  and  left  on  the  pavement  with  a  ten- 
cent-piece  for  my  fortune. 

"  Never  had  I  been  so  low ;  and  I  know  not  to  what 
extremities  I  might  have  come  at  last,  when  I  happened 
to  think  of  that  wealthy  lady  whose  horses  had  upset 
me  on  the  Boulevard.  I  had  kept  her  card.  Without 
hesitation,  I  went  into  a  grocery,  and  calling  for  some 
paper  and  a  pen,  I  wrote,  overcoming  the  last  struggle 
of  my  pride, — 

"  *  Do  you  remember,  madame,  a  poor  girl  whom 


278  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

your  carriage  came  near  crushing  to  death?  Once  be- 
fore she  applied  to  you,  and  received  no  answer.  She 
is  to-day  without  shelter  and  without  bread ;  and  you  are 
her  supreme  hope.' 

"  I  placed  these  few  lines  in  an  envelope,  and  ran  to 
the  address  indicated  on  the  card.  It  was  a  magnificent 
residence,  with  a  vast  court-yard  in  front.  In  the  por- 
ter's lodge,  five  or  six  servants  were  talking  as  I  came 
in,  and  looked  at  me  impudently,  from  head  to  foot, 
when  I  requested  them  to  take  my  letter  to  Mme.  de 
Thaller.  One  of  them,  however,  took  pity  on  me, — 

"  '  Come  with  me,'  he  said,  '  come  along ! ' 

"  He  made  me  cross  the  yard,  and  enter  the  vestibule ; 
and  then, — 

" '  Give  me  your  letter,'  he  said,  '  and  wait  here  for 
me.'  " 

Maxence  was  about  to  express  the  thoughts  which 
Mme.  de  Thaller's  name  naturally  suggested  to  his 
mind,  but  Mile.  Lucienne  interrupted  him, — 

"  In  all  my  life,"  she  went  on,  "  I  had  never  seen  any 
thing  so  magnificent  as  that  vestibule  with  its  tall  col- 
umns, its  tessellated  floor,  its  large  bronze  vases  filled 
with  the  rarest  flowers,  and  its  red  velvet  benches,  upon 
which  tall  footmen  in  brilliant  livery  were  lounging. 

"  I  was,  I  confess,  somewhat  intimidated  by  all  of 
this  splendor;  and  I  remained  awkwardly  standing, 
when  suddenly  the  servants  stood  up  respectfully. 

"  A  door  had  just  opened,  through  which  appeared 
a  man  already  past  middle  age,  tall,  thin,  dressed  in  the 
extreme  of  fashion,  and  wearing  long  red  whiskers  fall- 
ing over  his  chest." 

"  The  Baron  de  Thaller,"  murmured  Maxence. 

Mile.  Lucienne  took  no  notice  of  the  interruption. 

"  The  attitude  of  the  servants,"  she  went  on,  "  had 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  279 

made  me  easily  guess  that  he  was  the  master.  I  was 
bowing  to  him,  blushing  and  embarrassed,  when,  notic- 
ing me,  he  stopped  short,  shuddering  from  head  to  foot. 

"  '  Who  are  you  ?  '  he  asked  me  roughly. 

"  I  attributed  his  manner  to  the  sad  condition  of  my 
dress,  which  appeared  more  miserable  and  more  dilapi- 
dated still  amid  the  surrounding  splendors;  and, 
in  a  scarcely  intelligible  voice,  I  began, — 

"  '  I  am  a  poor  girl,  sir  ' — 

"  But  he  interrupted  me. 
'  To  the  point !  What  do  you  want  ?  ' 

"  '  I  am  awaiting  an  answer,  sir,  to  a  request  which  I 
have  just  forwarded  to  the  baroness.' 

"'What  about?' 

" '  Once  sir,  I  was  run  over  in  the  street  by  the  bar- 
oness's carriage:  I  was  severely  wounded,  and  had  to 
be  taken  to  the  hospital.' 

"  I  fancied  there  was  something  like  terror  in  the 
man's  look. 

"  '  It  is  you,  then,  who  once  before  sent  a  long  letter 
to  my  wife,  in  which  you  told  the  story  of  your  life  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,  it  was  I. ' 

"  '  You  stated  in  that  letter  that  you  had  no  parents, 
having  been  left  by  your  mother  with  some  gardeners 
at  Louveciennes  ? ' 

"  '  That  is  the  truth.' 

"  '  What  has  become  of  these  gardeners  ?  ' 

"  '  They  are  dead.' 

"  '  What  was  your  mother's  name  ?  ' 

"  '  I  never  knew.' 

"  To  M.  de  Thaller's  first  surprise  had  succeeded 
a  feeling  of  evident  irritation;  but,  the  more  haughty 
and  brutal  his  manners,  the  cooler  and  the  more  self- 
possessed  I  became. 


280  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  '  And  you  are  soliciting  assistance  ?  '  he  said. 

"  I  drew  myself  up,  and,  looking  at  him  straight  in 
the  eyes, — 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,'  I  replied :  '  it  is  a  legitimate 
indemnity  which  I  claim.' 

"  Indeed,  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  firmness  alarmed 
him.  With  a  feverish  haste,  he  began  to  feel  in  his  pock- 
ets. He  took  out  their  contents  of  gold  and  bank-notes 
all  in  a  heap,  and,  thusting  it  into  my  hands  without 
counting, — 

"  '  Here,'  he  said,  '  take  this.    Are  you  satisfied  ?  ' 

"  I  observed  to  him,  that,  having  sent  a  letter  to  Mme. 
de  Thaller,  it  would  perhaps  be  proper  to  await  her  an- 
swer. But  he  replied  that  it  was  not  necessary,  and, 
pushing  me  towards  the  door, — 

"  '  You  may  depend  upon  it,'  he  said,  '  I  shall  tell  my 
wife  that  I  saw  you.' 

"  I  started  to  go  out ;  but  I  had  not  gone  ten  steps 
across  the  yard,  when  I  heard  him  crying  excitedly  to 
his  servants, — 

"'You  see  that  beggar,  don't  you?  Well,  the  first 
one  who  allows  her  to  cross  the  threshold  of  my  door 
shall  be  turned  out  on  the  instant.' 

"  A  beggar,  I !  Ah  the  wretch !  I  turned  round  to  cast 
his  alms  into  his  face ;  but  already  he  had  disappeared, 
and  I  only  found  before  me  the  footman,  chuckling 
stupidly. 

"  I  went  out ;  and,  as  my  anger  gradually  passed  off, 
I  felt  thankful  that  I  had  been  unable  to  follow  the  dic- 
tates of  my  wounded  pride. 

"  '  Poor  girl,'  I  thought  to  myself,  '  where  would  you 
be  at  this  hour  ?  You  would  only  have  to  select  between 
suicide  and  the  vilest  existence;  whereas  now  you  are 
above  want.' 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  281 

"  I  was  passing  before  a  small  restaurant.  I  went 
in;  for  I  was  very  hungry,  having,  so  to  speak,  eaten 
nothing  for  several  days  past.  Besides,  I  felt  anxious 
to  count  my  treasure.  The  Baron  de  Thaller  had  given 
me  nine  hundred  and  thirty  francs. 

"  This  sum,  which  exceeded  the  utmost  limits  of  my 
ambition,  seemed  inexhaustible  to  me:  I  was  dazzled 
by  its  possession. 

"  '  And  yet/  I  thought,  '  had  M.  de  Thaller  happened 
to  have  ten  thousand  francs  in  his  pockets  he  would 
have  given  them  to  me  all  the  same.' 

"  I  was  at  a  loss  to  explain  this  strange  generosity. 
Why  his  surprise  when  he  first  saw  me,  then  his  anger, 
and  his  haste  to  get  rid  of  me?  How  was  it  that  a  man 
whose  mind  must  be  filled  with  the  gravest  cares  had 
so  distinctly  remembered  me,  and  the  letter  I  had  writ- 
ten to  his  wife?  Why,  after  showing  himself  so  gen- 
erous, had  he  so  strictly  excluded  me  from  his  house? 

"  After  vainly  trying  for  some  time  to  solve  this  rid- 
dle, I  concluded  that  I  must  be  the  victim  of  my  own  im- 
agination; and  I  turned  my  attention  to  making  the 
best  possible  use  of  my  sudden  fortune.  On  the  same 
day,  I  took  a  little  room  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Denis ;  and 
I  bought  myself  a  sewing-machine.  Before  the  week 
was  over,  I  had  work  before  me  for  several  months.  Ah ! 
this  time  it  seemed  indeed  that  I  had  nothing  more  to 
apprehend  from  destiny;  and  I  looked  forward,  with- 
out fear,  to  the  future.  At  the  end  of  a  month,  I  was 
earning  four  to  five  francs  a  day,  when,  one  afternoon, 
a  stout  man,  very  well  dressed,  looking  honest  and  good- 
natured,  and  speaking  French  with  some  difficulty, 
made  his  appearance  at  my  room.  He  was  an  American, 
he  stated,  and  had  been  sent  to  me  by  the  woman  for 
whom  I  worked.  Having  need  of  a  skilled  Parisian 


282  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

work-woman,  he  came  to  propose  to  me  to  follow  him 
to  New  York,  where  he  would  insure  me  a  brilliant  po- 
sition. 

"  But  I  knew  several  poor  girls,  who,  on  the  faith  of 
dazzling  promises,  had  expatriated  themselves.  Once 
abroad,  they  had  been  shamefully  abandoned,  and  had 
been  driven,  to  escape  starvation,  to  resort  to  the  vilest 
expedients.  I  refused,  therefore,  and  frankly  gave  him 
my  reasons  for  doing  so. 

"  My  visitor  at  once  protested  indignantly.  Whom 
did  I  take  him  for?  It  was  a  fortune  that  I  was  refus- 
ing. He  guaranteed  me  in  New  York  board,  lodging, 
and  two  hundred  francs  a  month.  He  would  pay  all 
travelling  and  moving  expenses.  And,  to  prove  to  me 
the  fairness  of  his  intentions,  he  was  ready,  he  said,  to 
sign  an  agreement,  and  pay  me  a  thousand  down. 

"  These  offers  were  so  brilliant,  that  I  was  staggered 
in  my  resolution. 

"  '  Well,'  I  said, '  give  me  twenty-four  hours  to  decide. 
I  wish  to  see  my  employer.' 

"  He  seemed  very  much  annoyed ;  but,  as  I  remained 
firm  in  my  purpose,  he  left,  promising  to  return  the  next 
day  to  receive  my  final  answer. 

"  I  ran  at  once  to  my  employer.  She  did  not  know 
what  I  was  talking  about.  She  had  sent  no  one,  and  was 
not  acquainted  with  any  American. 

"  Of  course,  I  never  saw  him  again ;  and  I  couldn't 
help  thinking  of  this  singular  adventure,  when,  one 
evening  during  the  following  week,  as  I  was  coming 
home  at  about  eleven  o'clock,  two  policemen  arrested 
me,  and,  in  spite  of  my  earnest  protestations,  took  me 
to  the  station-house,  where  I  was  locked  up  with  a  dozen 
unfortunates  who  had  just  been  taken  up  on  the  Boule- 
vards. I  spent  the  night  crying  with  shame  and  an- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  283 

ger ;  and  I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  me, 
if  the  justice  of  the  peace,  who  examined  me  the  next 
morning,  had  not  happened  to  be  a  just  and  kind  man. 
As  soon  as  I  had  explained  to  him  that  I  was  the  victim 
of  a  most  humiliating  error,  he  sent  an  agent  in  quest  of 
information,  and  having  satisfied  himself  that  I  was  an 
honest  girl,  working  for  my  living,  he  discharged  me. 
But,  before  permitting  me  to  go, — 

"  '  Beware,  my  child,'  he  said  to  me :  *  it  is  upon  a  for- 
mal and  well-authenticated  declaration  that  you  were 
arrested.  Therefore  you  must  have  enemies.  People 
have  an  interest  in  getting  rid  of  you  ' ' 

Mademoiselle  Lucienne  was  evidently  almost  ex- 
hausted with  fatigue:  her  voice  was  failing  her.  But 
it  was  in  vain  that  Maxence  begged  her  to  take  a  few 
moments  of  rest. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  I'd  rather  get  through  as  quick 
as  possible." 

And,  making  an  effort,  she  resumed  her  narrative, 
hurrying  more  and  more. 

"  I  returned  home,  my  mind  all  disturbed  by  the 
judge's  warnings.  I  am  no  coward;  but  it  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  feel  one's  self  incessantly  threatened  by  an  un- 
known and  mysterious  danger,  against  which  nothing 
can  be  done. 

"  In  vain  did  I  search  my  past  life:  I  could  think  of 
no  one  who  could  have  any  interest  in  effecting  my  ruin. 
Those  alone  have  enemies  who  have  had  friends.  I  had 
never  had  but  one  friend,  the  kind-hearted  girl  who  had 
turned  me  out  of  her  home  in  a  fit  of  absurd  jealousy. 
But  I  knew  her  well  enough  to  knew  that  she  was  incap- 
able of  malice,  and  that  she  must  long  since  have  for- 
gotten the  unlucky  cause  of  our  rupture. 

"  Weeks  after  weeks  .passed  without  any  new  incident. 


284  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

I  had  plenty  of  work  and  was  earning  enough  money 
to  begin  saving.  So  I  felt  comfortable,  laughed  at  my 
former  fears,  and  neglected  the  precautions  which  I  had 
taken  at  first ;  when,  one  evening,  my  employer,  having 
a  very  important  and  pressing  order,  sent  for  me.  We 
did  not  get  through  our  work  until  long  after  midnight. 

"  She  wished  me  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  night  with 
her;  but  it  would  have  been  necessary  to  make  up  a 
bed  for  me,  and  disturb  the  whole  household. 

"  '  Bash ! '  I  said,  '  this  will  not  be  the  first  time  I 
cross  Paris  in  the  middle  of  the  night.' 

"  I  started ;  and  I  was  going  along,  walking  as  fast 
as  I  could,  when,  from  the  angle  of  a  dark,  narrow 
street,  a  man  sprang  upon  me,  threw  me  down,  struck 
me,  and  would  doubtless  have  killed  me,  but  for  two 
brave  gentlemen  who  heard  my  screams  and  rushed  to 
my  assistance.  The  man  ran  off ;  and  I  was  able  to  walk 
the  rest  of  the  way  home,  having  received  but  a  very 
slight  wound. 

"  But  the  very  next  morning  I  ran  to  see  my  friend, 
the  justice  of  the  peace.  He  listened  to  me  gravely,  and, 
when  I  had  concluded, — 

"  '  How  were  you  dressed  ?  '  he  inquired. 

" '  All  in  black/  I  replied,  '  very  modestly,  like  a 
workwoman/ 

"  '  Had  you  nothing  on  your  person  that  could  tempt 
a  thief?' 

"  '  Nothing.  No  watch-chain,  no  jewelry,  no  ear- 
rings even/ 

"  '  Then/  he  uttered,  knitting  his  brows,  '  it  is  not  a 
fortuitous  crime:  it  is  another  attempt  on  the  part  of 
your  enemies/ 

"  Such  was  also  my  opinion.    And  yet — •    * 
'  "  '  But,  sir/  I  exclaimed,  '  who  can  have  any  interest 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  285 

to  destroy  me, — a  poor  obscure  girl  as  I  am?  I  have 
thought  carefully  and  well,  and  I  have  not  a  single  ene- 
my that  I  can  think  of.'  And,  as  I  had  full  confidence  in 
his  kindness,  I  went  on  telling  him  the  story  of  my  life. 

"  '  You  are  a  natural  child,'  he  said  as  soon  as  I  had 
done,  '  and  you  have  been  basely  abandoned.  That 
fact  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  justify  every  supposi- 
tion. You  do  not  know  your  parents;  but  it  is  quite 
possible  that  they  may  know  you,  and  that  they  may 
never  have  lost  sight  of  you.  Your  mother  was  a  work- 
ing-girl, you  think?  That  may  be.  But  your  father? 
Do  you  know  what  interests  your  existence  may 
threaten  ?  Do  you  know  what  elaborate  edifice  of  false- 
hood and  infamy  your  sudden  appearance  might  tumble 
to  the  ground  ?  ' 

"  I  was  listening  dumfounded. 

"  Never  had  such  conjectures  crossed  my  mind ;  and, 
whilst  I  doubted  their  probability,  I  had,  at  least,  to  ad- 
mit their  possibility. 

'  What  must  I  do,  then  ?  '  I  inquired. 

The  peace-officer  shook  his  head. 

" '  Indeed,  my  poor  child,  I  hardly  know  what  to 
advise.  The  police  is  not  omnipotent.  It  can  do  noth- 
ing to  anticipate  a  crime  conceived  in  the  brain  of  an 
unknown  scoundrel.' 

"  I  was  terrified.    He  saw  it,  and  took  pity  on  me. 

" '  In  your  place/  he  added,  '  I  would  change  my 
domicile.  You  might,  perhaps,  thus  make  them  lose 
your  track.  And,  above  all,  do  not  fail  to  give  me  your 
new  address.  Whatever  I  can  do  to  protect  you,  and  in- 
sure your  safety,  I  shall  do.' 

"  That  excellent  man  has  kept  his  word ;  and  once 
again  I  owed  my  safety  to  him.  'Tis  he  who  is  now  com- 
missary of  police  in  this  district,  and  who  protected  me 


286  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

against  Mme.  Fortin.  I  hastened  to  follow  his  advice, 
and  two  days  later  I  had  hired  the  room  in  this  house 
in  which  I  am  still  living.  In  order  to  avoid  every 
chance  of  discovery,  I  left  my  employer,  and  requested 
her  to  say,  if  any  one  came  to  inquire  after  me,  that  I 
had  gone  to  America. 

"  I  soon  found  work  again  in  a  very  fashionable 
dress-making  establishment,  the  name  of  which  you 
must  have  heard, — Van  Klopen's.  Unfortunately,  war 
had  just  been  declared.  Every  day  announced  a  new 
defeat.  The  Prussians  were  coming ;  then  the  siege  be- 
gan. Van  Klopen  had  closed  his  shop,  and  left  Paris. 
I  had  a  few  savings,  thank  heaven ;  and  I  husbanded 
them  as  carefully  as  shipwrecked  mariners  do  their  last 
ration  of  food,  when  I  unexpectedly  found  some  work. 

"  It  was  one  Sunday,  and  I  had  gone  out  to  see  some 
battalions  of  National  Guards  passing  along  the  Boule- 
vard, when  suddenly  I  saw  one  of  the  vivandihes,  who 
was  marching  behind  the  band,  stop,  and  run  towards 
me  with  open  arms.  It  was  my  old  friend  from  the 
Batignolles,  who  had  recognized  me.  '  She  threw  her 
arms  around  my  neck,  and,  as  we  had  at  once  become 
the  centre  of  a  group  of  at  least  five  hundred  idlers, — 

"  '  I  must  speak  to  you,'  she  said.  '  If  you  live  in  the 
neighborhood,  let's  go  to  your  room.  The  service  can 
wait.' 

"  I  brought  her  here ;  and  at  once  she  commenced 
to  excuse  herself  for  her  past  conduct,  begging  me  to 
restore  her  my  friendship.  As  I  expected,  she  had  long 
since  forgotten  the  young  man,  cause  of  our  rupture. 
But  she  was  now  in  love,  and  seriously  this  time,  she 
declared,  with  a  furniture-maker,  who  was  a  captain  in 
the  National  Guards.  It  was  through  him  that  she  had 
become  a  vivandiere;  and  she  offered  me  a  similar  po- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  287 

sition,  if  I  wished  it.  But  I  did  not  wish  it;  and,  as 
I  was  complaining  that  I  could  find  no  work,  she  swore 
that  she  would  get  me  some  through  her  captain,  who 
was  a  very  influential  man. 

"  Through  him,  I  did  in  fact  obtain  a  few  dozen 
jackets  to  make.  This  work  was  very  poorly  paid ;  but 
the  little  I  earned  was  that  much  less  to  take  from  my 
humble  resources.  In  that  way  I  managed  to  get  through 
the  siege  without  suffering  too  much. 

"  After  the  armistice,  unfortunately,  M.  Van  Klopen 
had  not  yet  returned.  I  was  unable  to  procure  any 
work ;  my  resources  were  exhausted ;  and  I  would  have 
starved  during  the  Commune,  but  for  my  old  friend, 
who  several  times  brought  me  a  little  money,  and  some 
provisions.  Her  captain  was  now  a  colonel,  and  was 
about  to  become  a  member  of  the  government ;  at  least, 
so  she  assured  me.  The  entrance  of  the  troops  into 
Paris  put  an  end  to  her  dream.  One  night  she  came 
to  me  livid  with  fright.  She  supposed  herself  gravely 
compromised,  and  begged  me  to  hide  her.  For  four 
days  she  remained  with  me.  On  the  fifth,  just  as  we 
were  sitting  down  to  dinner,  my  room  was  invaded  by 
a  number  of  police-agents,  who  showed  us  an  order  of 
arrest,  and  commanded  us  to  follow  them. 

"  My  friend  sank  down  upon  a  chair,  stupid  with 
fright.  But  I  retained  my  presence  of  mind,  and  per- 
suaded one  of  the  agents  to  go  and  notify  my  friend 
the  justice.  He  happened  luckily  to  be  at  home,  and  at 
once  hastened  to  my  assistance.  He  could  do  nothing, 
however,  for  the  moment ;  the  agents  having  positive  or- 
ders to  take  us  straight  to  Versailles. 

" '  Well/  said  he,  '  I  shall  accompany  you.' 

"  From  the  very  first  steps  he  took  the  next  morn- 
ing, he  discovered  that  my  position  was  indeed  grave. 


288  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY        . 

But  he  also  and  very  clearly  recognized  a  new  device  of 
the  enemy  to  bring  about  my  destruction.  The  informa- 
tion filed  against  me  stated  that  I  had  remained  in  the 
service  of  the  Commune  to  the  last  moment ;  that  I  had 
been  seen  behind  the  barricades  with  a  gun  in  my  hand ; 
and  that  I  had  formed  one  of  a  band  of  vile  incendiaries. 
This  infamous  scheme  had  evidently  been  suggested  by 
my  relations  with  my  friend  from  the  Batignolles,  who 
was  still  more  terribly  compromised  than  she  thought, 
the  poor  girl ;  her  colonel  having  been  captured,  and 
convicted  of  pillage  and  murder,  and  herself  charged 
with  complicity. 

"  Isolated  as  I  was,  without  resources,  and  without 
relatives,  I  would  certainly  have  perished,  but  for  the  de- 
voted efforts  of  my  friend  the  justice,  whose  official  po- 
sition gave  him  access  everywhere,  and  enabled  him  to 
reach  my  judges.  He  succeeded  in  demonstrating  my 
entire  innocence ;  and  after  forty-eight  hours'  detention, 
which  seemed  an  age  to  me,  I  was  set  at  liberty. 

"  At  the  door,  I  found  the  man  who  had  just  saved 
me.  He  was  waiting  for  me,  but  would  not  suffer  me 
to  express  the  gratitude  with  which  my  heart  over- 
flowed. 

"  '  You  will  thank  me/  he  said, '  when  I  have  deserved 
it  better.  I  have  done  nothing  as  yet  that  any  honest 
man  wouldn't  have  done  in  my  place.  What  I  wish  is 
to  discover  what  interests  you  are  threatening  without 
knowing  it,  and  which  must  be  considerable,  if  I  may 
judge  by  the  passion  and  the  tenacity  of  those  who  are 
pursuing  you.  What  I  desire  to  do  is  to  lay  hands  upon 
the  cowardly  rascals  in  whose  way  you  seem  to  stand.' 

"  I  shook  my  head. 

"  '  You  will  not  succeed/  I  said  to  him. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  289 

" '  Who  knows  ?  I've  done  harder  things  than  that 
in  my  life.' 

"  And  taking  a  large  envelope  from  his  pocket, — 

"  '  This,'  he  said,  '  is  the  letter  which  caused  your  ar- 
rest. I  have  examined  it  attentively ;  and  I  am  certain 
that  the  handwriting  is  not  disguised.  That's  something 
to  start  with,  and  may  enable  me  to  verify  my  suspi- 
cions, should  any  occur  to  my  mind.  In  the  mean  time, 
return  quietly  to  Paris,  resume  your  ordinary  occupa- 
tions, answer  vaguely  any  questions  that  may  be  asked 
about  this  matter,  and  above  all,  never  mention  my 
name.  Remain  at  the  Hotel  des  Folies :  it  is  in  my  dis- 
trict, in  my  legitimate  sphere  of  action;  besides,  the 
proprietors  are  in  a  position  where  they  dare  not  disobey 
my  orders.  Never  come  to  my  office,  unless  something 
grave  and  unforeseen  should  occur.  Our  chances  of 
success  would  be  seriously  compromised,  if  they  could 
suspect  the  interest  I  take  in  your  welfare.  Keep  your 
eyes  open  on  every  thing  that  is  going  on  around  you, 
and,  if  you  notice  any  thing  suspicious,  write  to  me.  I 
will  myself  organize  a  secret  surveillance  around  you.  If 
I  can  bag  one  of  the  rascals  who  are  watching  you,  that's 
all  I  want. 

"  '  And  now,'  added  this  good  man,  '  good-by.  Pa- 
tience and  courage.' 

"  Unfortunately  he  had  not  thought  of  offering  me  a 
little  money:  I  had  not  dared  to  ask  him  for  any,  and 
I  had  but  eight  sous  left.  It  was  on  foot,  therefore,  that 
I  was  compelled  to  return  to  Paris. 

"  Mme.  Fortin  received  me  with  open  arms.  With 
me  returned  the  hope  of  recovering  the  hundred  and  odd 
francs  which  I  owed  her,  and  which  she  had  given  up 
for  lost.  Moreover,  she  had  excellent  news  for  me.  M. 


290  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Van  Klopen  had  sent  for  me  during  my  absence,  re- 
questing me  to  call  at  his  shop.  Tired  as  I  was,  I  went 
to  see  him  at  once.  I  found  him  very  much  downcast 
by  the  poor  prospects  of  business.  Still  he  was  deter- 
mined to  go  on,  and  offered  to  employ  me,  not  as  work- 
woman, as  heretofore,  but  to  try  on  garments  for  cus- 
tomers, at  a  salary  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  francs  a 
month.  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  be  very  particular. 
I  accepted;  and  there  I  am 'still. 

"  Every  morning,  when  I  get  to  the  shop,  I  take  off 
this  simple  costume,  and  I  put  on  a  sort  of  livery  that 
belongs  to  M.  Van  Klopen, — wide  skirts,  and  a  black 
silk  dress. 

"  Then  whenever  a  customer  comes  who  wants  a 
cloak,  a  mantle,  or  some  other  '  wrapping/  I  step  up, 
and  put  on  the  garment,  that  the  purchaser  may  see  how 
it  looks.  I  have  to  walk,  to  turn  around,  sit  down,  etc. 
It  is  absurdly  ridiculous,  often  humiliating ;  and  many  a 
time,  during  the  first  days,  I  felt  tempted  to  give  back 
to  M.  Van  Klopen  his  black  silk  aress. 

"  But  the  conjectures  of  my  friend  the  peace-officer 
were  constantly  agitating  my  brain.  Since  I  thought  I 
had  discovered  8  mystery  in  my  existence,  I  indulged  in 
all  sorts  of  fancies,  and  was  momentarily  expecting 
some  extraordinary  occurrence,  some  compensation  of 
destiny.  And  I  remained. 

"  But  I  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  my  troubles." 

Since  she  had  been  speaking  of  M.  Van  Klopen,  Mile. 
Lucienne  seemed  to  have  lost  her  tone  of  haughty  assur- 
ance and  imperturbable  coolness ;  and  it  was  with  a  look 
of  mingled  confusion  and  sadness  that  she  went  on. 

"  What  I  was  doing  at  Van  Klopen's  was  exceedingly 
painful  to  me;  and  yet  he  very  soon  asked  me  to  do 
something  more  painful  still.  Gradually  Paris  was  fill- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  291 

ing  up  again.  The  hotels  had  re-opened;  foreigners 
were  pouring  in ;  and  the  Bois  Boulogne  was  resuming 
its  wonted  animation.  Still  but  few  orders  came  in,  and 
those  for  dresses  of  the  utmost  simplicity,  of  dark  color 
and  plain  material,  on  which  it  was  hard  to  make  twenty- 
five  per  cent  profit.  Van  Klopen  was  disconsolate.  He 
kept  speaking  to  me  of  the  good  old  days,  when  some 
of  his  customers  spent  as  much  as  thirty  thousand  francs 
a  month  for  dresses  and  trifles,  until  one  day, — 

"  '  You  are  the  only  one/  he  told  me,  '  who  can  help 
me  out  just  now.  You  are  really  good  looking;  and  I 
am  sure  that  in  full  dress,  spread  over  the  cushions  of 
a  handsome  carriage,  you  would  create  quite  a  sensation, 
and  that  all  the  rest  of  the  women  would  be  jealous  of 
you,  and  would  wish  to  look  like  you.  There  needs  but 
one,  you  know,  to  give  the  good  example.'  " 

Maxence  started  up  suddenly,  and,  striking  his  head 
with  hand, — 

"  Ah,  I  understand  now !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  thought  that  Van  Klopen  was  jesting."  went  on 
the  young  girl.  "  But  he  had  never  been  more  in  ear- 
nest; and,  to  prove  it,  he  commenced  explaining  to  me 
what  he  wanted.  He  proposed  to  get  up  for  me  some  of 
those  costumes  which  are  sure  to  attract  attention ;  and 
two  or  three  times  a  week  he  would  send  me  a  fine  car- 
riage, and  I  would  go  and  show  myself  in  the  Bois. 

"  I  felt  disgusted  at  the  proposition. 

"'Never!'  I  said. 

"'Why  not?' 

'  Because  I  respect  myself  too  much  to  make  a  liv- 
ing advertisement  of  myself.' 

"  He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  '  You  are  wrong,'  he  said.  '  You  are  not  rich,  and 
I  would  give  you  twenty  francs  for  each  ride.  At  the 


292  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

rate  of  eight  rides  a  month,  it  would  be  one  hundred 
and  sixty  francs  added  to  your  wages.  Besides,'  he 
added  with  a  wink, '  it  would  be  an  excellent  opportunity 
to  make  your  fortune.  Pretty  as  you  are,  who  knows 
but  what  some  millionaire  might  take  a  fancy  to  you ! ' 

"  I  felt  indignant. 

"  '  For  that  reason  alone,  if  for  no  other,'  I  exclaimed, 
'  I  refuse.' 

" '  You  are  a  little  fool,'  he  replied.  '  If  you  do  not 
accept,  you  cease  being  in  my  employment.  Reflect ! ' 

"  My  mind  was  already  made  up,  and  I  was  thinking 
of  looking  out  for  some  other  occupation,  when  I  re- 
ceived a  note  from  my  friend  the  peace-officer,  request- 
ing me  to  call  at  his  office. 

"  I  did  so,  and,  after  kindly  inviting  me  to  a  seat, — 

"  '  Well,'  he  said,  '  what  is  there  new  ?  ' 

"  '  Nothing.    I  have  noticed  no  one  watching  me ' 

"  He  looked  annoyed. 

: '  My  agents  have  not  detected  any  thing,  either/  he 
grumbled.  '  And  yet  it  is  evident  that  your  enemies 
cannot  have  given  it  up  so.  They  are  sharp  ones:  if 
they  keep  quiet,  it  is  because  they  are  preparing  some 
good  trick.  What  it  is  I  must  and  shall  find  out.  Al- 
ready I  have  an  idea  which  would  be  an  excellent  one, 
if  I  could  discover  some  way  of  throwing  you  among 
what  is  called  good  society.' 

"  I  explained  to  him,  that,  being  employed  at  Van 
Klopen's,  I  had  an  opportunity  to  see  there  many  ladies 
of  the  best  society. 

" '  That  is  not  enough,'  he  said. 

"  Then  M.  Van  Klopen's  propositions  came  back  to 
my  mind,  and  I  stated  them  to  him. 

" '  Just  the  thing ! '  he  exclaimed,  starting  upon  his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  293 

chair :  '  a  manifest  proof  that  luck  is  with  us.  You  must 
accept.' 

"  I  felt  bound  to  tell  him  my  objections,  which  re- 
flection had  much  increased. 

"  '  I  know  but  too  well/  I  said,  '  what  must  happen  if 
I  accept  this  odious  duty.  Before  I  have  been  four  times 
to  the  Bois,  I  shall  be  noticed,  and  every  one  will  im- 
agine that  they  know  for  what  purpose  I  come  there. 
I  shall  be  assailed  with  vile  offers.  True,  I  have  no 
fears  for  myself.  I  shall  always  be  better  guarded  by  my 
pride  than  by  the  most  watchful  of  parents.  But  my 
reputation  will  be  lost.' 

"  I  failed  to  convince  him. 

"  '  I  know  very  well  that  you  are  an  honest  girl/  he 
said  to  me ;  '  but,  for  that  very  reason,  what  do  you  care 
what  all  these  people  will  think,  whom  you  do  not  know  ? 
Your  future  is  at  stake.  I  repeat  it,  you  must  accept.' 

"  '  If  you  command  me  to  do  so/  I  said. 

"  '  Yes,  I  command  you ;  and  I'll  explain  to  you 
why.'  " 

For  the  first  time,  Mile.  Lucienne  manifested  some 
reticence,  and  omitted  to  repeat  the  explanations  of  the 
peace-officer.  And,  after  a  few  moments'  pause, — 

"  You  know  the  rest,  neighbor,"  she  said,  "  since  you 
have  seen  me  yourself  in  that  inept  and  ridiculous  role 
of  living  advertisement,  of  fashionable  lay-figure;  and 
the  result  has  been  just  as  I  expected.  Can  you  find 
any  one  who  believes  in  my  honesty  of  purpose?  You 
have  heard  Mme.  Fortin  to-night?  Yourself,  neigh- 
bor— what  did  you  take  me  for?  And  yet  you  should 
have  noticed  something  of  my  suffering  and  my  humilia- 
tion the  day  that  you  were  watching  me  so  closely  in  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne." 


294  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Maxence  with  a  start,  "  you 
know?" 

"  Have  I  not  just  told  you  that  I  always  fear  being 
watched  and  followed,  and  that  I  am  always  on  the  look- 
out ?  Yes,  I  know  that  you  tried  to  discover  the  secret 
of  my  rides." 

Maxence  tried  to  excuse  himself. 

"  That  will  do  for  the  present,"  she  uttered.  "  You 
wish  to  be  my  friend,  you  say  ?  Now  that  you  know  my 
whole  life  almost  as  well  as  I  do  myself,  reflect,  and  to- 
morrow you  will  tell  me  the  result  of  your  thoughts." 

Whereupon  she  went  out. 


XXVIII. 

FOR  about  a  minute  Maxence  remained  stupefied  at 
this  sudden  denouement;  and,  when  he  had  recovered 
his  presence  of  mind  and  his  voice,  Mile.  Lucienne  had 
disappeared,  and  he  could  hear  her  bolting  her  door, 
and  striking  a  match  against  the  wall. 

He  might  also  have  thought  that  he  was  awaking  from 
a  dream,  had  he  not  had,  to  attest  the  reality,  the  vague 
perfume  which  filled  his  room,  and  the  light  shawl, 
which  Mile.  Lucienne  wore  as  she  came  in,  and  which 
she  had  forgotten,  on  a  chair. 

The  night  was  almost  ended:  six  o'clock  had  just 
struck.  Still  he  did  not  feel  in  the  least  sleepy.  His 
head  was  heavy,  his  temples  throbbing,  his  eyes  smart- 
ing. Opening  his  window,  he  leaned  out  to  breathe  the 
morning  air.  The  day  was  dawning  pale  and  cold.  A 
furtive  and  livid  light  glanced  along  the  damp  walls 
of  the  narrow  court  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  as  at  the 
bottom  of  a  well.  Already  arose  those  confused  noises 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  295 

which  announce  the  waking  of  Paris,  and  above  which 
can  be  heard  the  sonorous  rolling  of  the  milkmen's  carts, 
the  loud  slamming  of  doors,  and  the  sharp  sound  of 
hurrying  steps  on  the  hard  pavement. 

But  soon  Maxence  felt  a  chill  coming  over  him.  He 
closed  the  window,  threw  some  wood  in  the  chimney, 
and  stretched  himself  on  his  chair,  his  feet  towards  the 
fire.  It  was  a  most  serious  event  which  had  just  oc- 
curred in  his  existence;  and,  as  much  as  he  could,  he 
endeavored  to  measure  its  bearings,  and  to  calculate  its 
consequences  in  the  future. 

He  kept  thinking  of  the  story  of  that  strange  girl,  her 
haughty  frankness  when  unrolling  certain  phases  of  her 
life,  of  her  wonderful  impassibility,  and  of  the  impla- 
cable contempt  for  humanity  which  her  every  word  be- 
trayed. Where  had  she  learned  that  dignity,  so  simple 
and  so  noble,  that  measured  speech,  that  admirable  re- 
spect of  herself,  which  had  enabled  her  to  pass  through 
so  much  filth  without  receiving  a  stain? 

"  What  a  woman !  "  he  thought. 

Before  knowing  her,  he  loved  her.  Now  he  was  con- 
vulsed by  one  of  those  exclusive  passions  which  master 
the  whole  being.  Already  he  felt  himself  so  much  under 
the  charm,  subjugated,  dominated,  fascinated;  he  un- 
derstood so  well  that  he  was  going  to  cease  being  his  own 
master ;  that  his  free  will  was  about  escaping  from  him ; 
that  he  would  be  in  Mile.  Lucienne's  hands  like  wax 
under  the  modeller's  fingers ;  he  saw  himself  so  thor- 
oughly at  the  discretion  of  an  energy  superior  to  his 
own,  that  he  was  almost  frightened. 

"  It's  my  whole  future  that  I  am  going  to  risk,"  he 
thought. 

And  there  was  no  middle  path.  Either  he  must  fly  at 
once,  without  waiting  for  Mile.  Lucienne  to  awake,  fly 


296  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

without  looking  behind,  or  else  stay,  and  then  accept  all 
the  chances  of  an  incurable  passion  for  a  woman  who, 
perhaps,  might  never  care  for  him.  And  he  remained 
wavering,  like  the  traveller  who  finds  himself  at  the 
intersection  of  two  roads,  and,  knowing  that  one  leads  to 
the  goal,  and  the  other  to  an  abyss,  hesitates  which  to 
take. 

With  this  difference,  however,  that  if  the  traveller 
errs,  and  discovers  his  error,  he  is  always  free  to  retrace 
his  steps;  whereas  man,  in  life,  can  never  return  to  his 
starting-point.  Every  step  he  takes  is  final;  and  if  he 
has  erred,  if  he  has  taken  the  fatal  road,  there  is  no 
remedy. 

"  Well,  no  matter !  "  exclaimed  Maxence.  "  It  shall 
not  be  said  that  through  cowardice  I  have  allowed  that 
happiness  to  escape  which  passes  within  my  reach.  I 
shall  stay."  And  at  once  he  began  to  examine  what 
reasonably  he  might  expect ;  for  there  was  no  mistaking 
Mile.  Lucienne's  intentions.  When  she  had  said,  "  Do 
you  wish  to  be  friends?"  she  had  meant  exactly  that, 
and  nothing  else, — friends,  and  only  friends. 

"  And  yet,"  thought  Maxence,  "  if  I  had  not  inspired 
her  with  a  real  interest,  would  she  have  so  wholly  con- 
fided unto  me?  She  is  not  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  I 
love  her;  and  she  knows  life  too  well  to  suppose  that  I 
will  cease  to  love  her  when  she  has  allowed  me  a  certain 
amount  of  intimacy." 

His  heart  filled  with  hope  at  the  idea. 

"  My  mistress,"  he  thought,  "  never,  evidently,  but 
my  wife.  Why  not?" 

But  the  very  next  moment  he  became  a  prey  to  the 
bitterest  discouragement.  He  thought  that  perhaps  Mile. 
Lucienne  might  have  some  capital  interest  in  thus  mak- 
ing a  confidant  of  him.  She  had  not  told  him  the  ex- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  297 

planation  given  her  by  the  peace-officer.  Had  she  not, 
perhaps,  succeeded  in  lifting  a  corner  of  the  veil  which 
covered  the  secret  of  her  birth?  Was  she  on  the  track 
of  her  enemies?  and  had  she  discovered  the  motive  of 
their  animosity? 

"  Is  it  possible,"  thought  Maxence,  "  that  I  should  be 
but  one  of  the  powers  in  the  game  she  is  playing  ?  How 
do  I  know,  that,  if  she  wins,  she  will  not  cast  me  off  ?  " 

In  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  he  had  gradually  fallen 
asleep,  murmuring  to  the  last  the  name  of  Lucienne. 

The  creaking  of  his  opening  door  woke  him  up  sud- 
denly. He  started  to  his  feet,  and  met  Mile.  Lucienne 
coming  in. 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  said  she.    "  You  did  not  go  to  bed  ?  " 

"  You  recommended  me  to  reflect,"  he  replied.  "  I've 
been  reflecting." 

He  looked  at  his  watch :  it  was  twelve  o'clock. 

"  Which,  however,"  he  added,  "  did  not  keep  me  from 
going  to  sleep." 

All  the  doubts  that  besieged  him  at  the  moment  when 
he  had  been  overcome  by  sleep  now  came  back  to  his 
mind  with  painful  vividness. 

"  And  not  only  have  I  been  sleeping,"  he  went  on, 
"  but  I  have  been  dreaming  too." 

Mile.  Lucienne  fixed  upon  him  her  great  black  eyes. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  your  dream  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  hesitated.  Had  he  had  but  one  minute  to  reflect, 
perhaps  he  would  not  have  spoken;  but  he  was  taken 
unawares. 

"  I  dreamed,"  he  replied,  "  that  we  were  friends  in 
the  noblest  and  purest  acceptance  of  that  word.  Intel- 
ligence, heart,  will,  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  can, — 
I  laid  every  thing  at  your  feet.  You  accepted  the  most 
entire  devotion  the  most  respectful  and  the  most  tender 


298  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

that  man  is  capable  of.  Yes,  we  were  friends  indeed; 
and  upon  a  glimpse  of  love,  never  expressed,  I  planned 
a  whole  future  of  love."  He  stopped. 

"Well?"  she  asked. 

"  Well,  when  my  hopes  seemed  on  the  point  of  being 
realized,  it  happened  that  the  mystery  of  your  birth  was 
suddenly  revealed  to  you.  You  found  a  noble,  powerful, 
and  wealthy  family.  You  resumed  the  illustrious  name 
of  which  you  had  been  robbed;  your  enemies  were 
crushed ;  and  your  rights  were  restored  to  you.  It  was 
no  longer  Van  Klopen's  hired  carriage  that  stopped  in 
front  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies,  but  a  carriage  bearing 
a  gorgeous  coat  of  arms.  That  carriage  was  yours; 
and  it  came  to  take  you  to  your  own  residence  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  or  to  your  ancestral  manor." 

"  And  yourself  ?  "  inquired  the  girl. 

Maxence  repressed  one  of  those  nervous  spasms  which 
frequently  break  out  in  tears,  and,  with  a  gloomy  look, — 

"  I,"  he  answered,  "  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  pave- 
ment, I  waited  for  a  word  or  a  look  from  you.  You  had 
forgotten  my  very  existence.  Your  coachman  whipped 
his  horses ;  they  started  at  a  gallop ;  and  soon  I  lost  sight 
of  you.  And  then  a  voice,  the  inexorable  voice  of  fate, 
cried  to  me,  '  Never  more  shalt  thou  see  her ! ' ' 

With  a  superb  gesture  Mile.  Lucienne  drew  herself 
up. 

"  It  is  not  with  your  heart,  I  trust,  that  you  judge 
me,  M.  Maxence  Favoral,"  she  uttered. 

He  trembled  lest  he  had  offended  her. 

"  I  beseech  you,"  he  began. 

But  she  went  on  in  a  voice  vibrating  with  emotion, — 

"  I  am  not  of  those  who  basely  deny  their  past.  Your 
dream  will  never  be  realized.  Those  things  are  only 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  299 

seen  on  the  stage.  If  it  did  realize  itself,  however,  if 
the  carriage  with  the  coat-of-arms  did  come  to  the  door, 
the  companion  of  the  evil  days,  the  friend  who  offered 
me  his  month's  salary  to  pay  my  debt,  would  have  a 
seat  by  my  side." 

That  was  more  happiness  than  Maxence  would  have 
dared  to  hope  for.  He  tried,  in  order  to  express  his 
gratitude,  to  find  some  of  those  words  which  always 
seem  to  be  lacking  at  the  most  critical  moments.  But 
he  was  suffocating;  and  the  tears,  accumulated  by  so 
many  successive  emotions,  were  rising  to  his  eyes. 

With  a  passionate  impulse,  he  seized  Mile.  Lucienne's 
hand,  and,  taking  it  to  his  lips,  he  covered  it  with  kisses. 

Gently  but  resolutely  she  withdrew  her  hand,  and, 
fixing  upon  him  her  beautiful  clear  gaze, — 

"  Friends,"  she  uttered. 

Her  accent  alone  would  have  been  sufficient  to  dis- 
sipate the  presumptuous  illusions  of  Maxence,  had  he 
had  any.  But  he  had  none. 

"  Friends  only,"  he  replied,  "  until  the  day  when  you 
shall  be  my  wife.  You  cannot  forbid  me  to  hope.  You 
love  no  one?  " 

"  No  one." 

"  Well  since  we  are  going  to  tread  the  path  of  life, 
let  me  think  that  we  may  find  love  at  some  turn  of  the 
road." 

She  made  no  answer.  And  thus  was  sealed  between 
them  a  treaty  of  friendship,  to  which  they  were  to  re- 
main so  strictly  faithful,  that  the  word  "  love  "  never 
once  rose  to  their  lips. 

In  appearance  there  was  no  change  in  their  mode  of 
life. 

Every  morning,  at  seven  o'clock,  Mile.  Lucienne  went 


300  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  M.  Van  Klopen's,  and  an  hour  later  Maxence  started 
for  his  office.  They  returned  home  at  night,  and  spent 
their  evenings  together  by  the  fireside. 

But  what  was  easy  to  foresee  now  took  place. 

Weak  and  undecided  by  nature,  Maxence  began  very 
soon  to  feel  the  influence  of  the  obstinate  and  energetic 
character  of  the  girl.  She  infused,  as  it  were,  in  his 
veins,  a  warmer  and  more  generous  blood.  Gradually 
she  imbued  him  with  her  ideas,  and  from  her  own  will 
gave  him  one. 

He  had  told  her  in.  all  sincerity  his  history,  the  mis- 
eries of  his  home,  M.  Favoral's  parsimony  and  exagger- 
ated severity,  his  mother's  resigned  timidity,  and  Mile. 
Gilberte's  resolute  nature. 

He  had  concealed  nothing  of  his  past  life,  of  his  er- 
rors and  his  follies,  confessing  even  the  worst  of  his  ac- 
tions; as,  for  instance,  having  abused  his  mother's  and 
sister's  affection  to  extort  from  them  all  the  money  they 
earned. 

He  had  admitted  to  her  that  it  was  onlv  with  great 
reluctance  and  under  pressure  of  necessity,  that  he 
worked  at  all ;  that  he  was  far  from  being  rich ;  that  al- 
though he  took  his  dinner  with  his  parents,  his  salary 
barely  sufficed  for  his  wants ;  and  that  he  had  debts. 

He  hoped,  however,  he  added,  that  it  would  not  be 
always  thus,  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  would  see  the 
termination  of  all  this  misery  and  privation;  for  his 
father  had  at  least  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year  and  some 
day  he  must  be  rich. 

Far  from  smiling,  Mile.  Lucienne  frowned  at  such  a 
prospect. 

"  Ah !  your  father  is  a  millionaire,  is  he  ?  "  she  inter- 
rupted. "  Well,  I  understand  now  how,  at  twenty-five, 
after  refusing  all  the  positions  which  have  been  offered 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  301 

to  you,  you  have  no  position.  You  relied  on  your  father, 
instead  of  relying  on  yourself.  Judging  that  he  worked 
hard  enough  for  two,  you  bravely  folded  your  arms, 
waiting  for  the  fortune  which  he  is  amassing,  and  which 
you  seem  to  consider  yours." 

Such  morality  seemed  a  little  steep  to  Maxence. 

"  I  think,"  he  began,  "  that,  if  one  is  the  son  of  a  rich 
man  " — 

"  One  has  the  right  to  be  useless,  I  suppose  ?  "  added 
the  girl. 

"  I  do  not  mean  that ;  but  " — 

"  There  is  no  but  about  it.  And  the  proof  that  your 
views  are  wrong,  is  that  they  have  brought  you  where 
you  are,  and  deprived  you  of  your  own  free  will.  To 
place  one's  self  at  the  mercy  of  another,  be  that  other 
your  own  father,  is  always  silly;  and  one  is  always  at 
the  mercy  of  the  man  from  whom  he  expects  money  that 
he  has  not  earned.  Your  father  would  never  have  been 
so  harsh,  had  he  not  believed  that  you  could  not  do 
without  him." 

He  wanted  to  discuss:  she  stopped  him. 

"  Do  you  wish  the  proof  that  you  are  at  M.  Favoral's 
mercy  ?  "  she  said.  "  Very  well.  You  spoke  of  marry- 
ing me." 

"  Ah,  if  you  were  willing !  " 

"  Very  well.  Go  and  speak  of  it  to  your  father." 

"  I  suppose  " — 

"  You  don't  suppose  any  thing  at  all :  you  are  abso- 
lutely certain  that  he  will  refuse  you  his  consent." 

"  I  could  do  without  it." 

"  I  admit  that  you  could.  But  do  you  know  what  he 
would  do  then  ?  He  would  arrange  things  in  such  a  way 
that  you  would  never  get  a  centime  of  his  fortune." 

Maxence  had  never  thought  of  that. 


302  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Therefore,"  the  young  girl  went  on  gayly,  "  though 
there  is  as  yet  no  question  of  marriage,  learn  to  secure 
your  independence ;  that  is,  the  means  of  living. .  And  to 
that  effect  let  us  work." 

It  was  from  that  moment,  that  Mme.  Favoral  had  no- 
ticed in  her  son  the  change  that  had  surprised  her  so 
much. 

Under  the  inspiration,  under  the  impulsion,  of  Mile. 
Lucienne,  Maxence  had  been  suddenly  taken  with  a 
zeal  for  work,  and  a  desire  to  earn  money,  of  which  he 
could  not  have  been  suspected. 

He  was  no  longer  late  at  his  office,  and  had  not,  at 
the  end  of  each  month,  ten  or  fifteen  francs'  fines  to  pay. 

Every  morning,  as  soon  as  she  was  up,  Mile.  Lucienne 
came  to  knock  at  his  door.  "  Come,  get  up !  "  she  cried 
to  him. 

And  quick  he  jumped  out  of  bed  and  dressed,  so  that 
he  might  bid  her  good-morning  before  she  left. 

In  the  evening,  the  last  mouthful  of  his  dinner  was 
hardly  swallowed,  before  he  began  copying  the  docu- 
ments which  he  procured  from  M.  Chapelain's  suc- 
cessor. 

And  often  he  worked  quite  late  in  the  night  whilst  by 
'his  side  Mile.  Lucienne  applied  herself  to  some  work  of 
embroidery. 

The  girl  was  the  cashier  of  the  association ;  and  she 
administered  the  common  capital  with  such  skilful  and 
such  scrupulous  economy,  that  Maxence  soon  succeeded 
in  paying  off  his  creditors. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  was  saying  at  the  end  of  De- 
cember, "  that,  between  us,  we  have  earned  over  six 
hundred  francs  this  month  ?  " 

On  Sundays  only,  after  a  week  of  which  not  a  minute 
had  been  lost,  they  indulged  in  some  little  recreation. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  303 

If  the  weather  was  not  too  bad,  they  went  out  to- 
gether, dined  in  some  modest  restaurant,  and  finished 
the  day  at  the  theatre. 

Having  thus  a  common  existence,  both  young,  free, 
and  having  their  rooms  divided  only  by  a  narrow  pas- 
sage it  was  difficult  that  people  should  believe  in  the  in- 
nocence of  their  intercourse.  The  proprietors  of  the 
Hotel  des  Folies  believed  nothing  of  the  kind ;  and  they 
were  not  alone  in  that  opinion. 

Mile.  Lucienne  having  continued  to  show  herself  in 
the  Bois  on  the  afternoons  when  the  weather  was  fine, 
the  number  of  fools  who  annoyed  her  with  their  atten- 
tions had  greatly  increased.  Among  the  most  obstinate 
could  be  numbered  M.  Costeclar,  who  was  pleased  to 
declare,  upon  his  word  of  honor,  that  he  had  lost  his 
sleep,  and  his  taste  for  business,  since  the  day  when, 
together  with  M.  Saint  Pavin,  he  had  first  seen  Mile. 
Lucienne. 

The  efforts  of  his  valet,  and  the  letters  which  he  had 
written,  having  proved  useless,  M.  Costeclar  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  act  in  person ;  and  gallantly  he  had  come 
to  put  himself  on  guard  in  front  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 

Great  was  his  surprise,  when  he  saw  Mile.  Lucienne 
coming  out  arm  in  arm  with  Maxence ;  and  greater  still 
was  his-  spite. 

"  That  girl  is  a  fool,"  he  thought,  "  to  prefer  to  me  a 
fellow  who  has  not  two  hundred  francs  a  month  to 
spend.  But  never  mind!  He  laughs  best  who  laughs 
last." 

And,  as  he  was  a  man  fertile  in  expedients,  he  went 
the  next  day  to  take  a  walk  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Mutual  Credit ;  and,  having  met  M.  Favoral  by  chance, 
he  told  him  how  his  son  Maxence  was  ruining  himself 
for  a  young  lady  whose  toilets  were  a  seandal,  insinu- 


304  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ating  delicately  that  it  was  his  duty,  as  the  head  of  the 
family,  to  put  a  stop  to  such  a  thing. 

This  was  precisely  the  time  when  Maxence  was  en- 
deavoring to  obtain  a  situation  in  the  office  of  the 
Mutual  Credit. 

It  is  true  that  the  idea  was  not  original  with  him,  and 
that  he  had  even  vehemently  rejected  it,  when,  for  the 
first  time,  Mile.  Lucienne  had  suggested  it. 

"  What !  "  had  he  exclaimed,  "  be  employed  in  the 
same  establishment  as  my  father?  Suffer  at  the  office 
the  same  intolerable  despotism  as  at  home?  I'd  rather 
break  stones  on  the  roads." 

But  Mile.  Lucienne  was  not  the  girl  to  give  up  so 
easily  a  project  conceived  and  carefully  matured  by  her- 
self. 

She  returned  to  the  charge  with  that  infinite  art  of 
women,  who  understand  so  marvellously  well  how  to 
turn  a  position  which  they  cannot  carry  in  front.  She 
kept  the  matter  so  well  before  him,  she  spoke  of  it  so 
often  and  so  much,  on  every  occasion,  and  under  all 
pretexts,  that  he  ended  by  persuading  himself  that  it 
was  the  only  reasonable  and  practical  thing  he  could  do, 
the  only  way  in  which  he  had  any  chance  of  making 
his  fortune;  and  so,  one  evening  overcoming  his  last 
hesitations, — 

"  I  am  going  to  speak  about  it  to  my  father,"  he  said 
to  Mile.  Lucienne. 

But  whether  he  had  been  influenced  by  M.  Costeclar's 
insinuations,  or  for  some  other  reason,  M.  Favoral  had 
rejected  indignantly  his  son's  request,  saying  that  it 
was  impossible  to  trust  a  young  man  who  was  ruining 
himself  for  the  sake  of  a  miserable  creature. 

Maxence  had  become  crimson  with  rage  on  hearing 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  305 

the  woman  spoken  of  thus,  whom  he  loved  to  madness, 
and  who,  far  from  ruining  him,  was  making  him. 

He  returned  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies  in  an  indescriba- 
ble state  of  exasperation. 

"  There's  the  result,"  he  said  to  Mile.  Lucienne,  "  of 
the  step  which  you  have  urged  me  so  strongly  to  take." 

She  seemed  neither  surprised  nor  irritated. 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied  simpl) . 

But  Maxence  could  not  resign  himself  so  quietly  to 
such  a  cruel  disappointment ;  and,  not  having  the  slight- 
est suspicion  of  Costeclar's  doings, — 

"  And  such  is,"  he  added,  "  the  result  of  all  the  gossip 
of  these  stupid  shop-keepers  who  run  to  see  you  every 
time  you  go  out  in  the  carriage." 

The  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders  contemptuously. 

"  I  expected  it,"  she  said,  "  the  day  when  I  accepted 
M.  Van  Klopen's  offers." 

"  Everybody  believes  that  you  are  my  mistress." 

"  What  matters  it,  since  it  is  not  so  ?  " 

Maxence  did  not  dare  to  confess  that  this  was  pre- 
cisely what  made  him  doubly  angry ;  and  he  shuddered 
at  the  thought  of  the  ridicule  that  would  certainly  be 
heaped  upon  him,  if  the  true  state  of  the  case  was 
known. 

"  We  ought  to  move,"  he  suggested. 

"  What's  the  use  ?  Wherever  we  should  go,  it  would 
be  the  same  thing.  Besides,  I  don't  want  to  leave  this 
neighborhood." 

"  And  I  am  too  much  your  friend  not  to  tell  you,  that 
your  reputation  in  it  is  absolutely  lost." 

"  I  have  no  accounts  to  render  to  any  one." 

"  Except  to  your  friend  the  commissary  of  police, 
however." 


306  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

A  pale  smile  flitted  upon  her  lips. 

"  Ah !  "  she  uttered,  "  he  knows  the  truth." 

"  You  have  seen  him  again,  then  ?  " 

"  Several  times." 

"  Since  we  have  known  each  other  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  never  told  me  anything  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  think  it  necessary/' 

Maxence  insisted  no  more;  but,  by  the  sharp  pang 
that  he  felt,  he  realized  how  dear  Mile.  Lucienne  had  be- 
come to  him. 

"  She  has  secrets  from  me,"  thought  he, — "  from  me 
who  would  deem  it  a  crime  to  have  any  from  her." 

What  secrets?  Had  she  concealed  from  him  that  she 
was  pursuing  an  object  which  had  become,  as  it  were, 
that  of  her  whole  life.  Had  she  not  told  him,  that  with 
the  assistance  of  her  friend  the  peace-officer,  who  had 
now  become  commissary  of  police  of  the  district,  she 
hoped  to  penetrate  the  mystery  of  her  birth,  and  to  re- 
venge herself  on  the  villains,  who,  three  times,  had  at- 
tempted to  do  away  with  her  ? 

She  had  never  mentioned  her  projects  again;  but  it 
was  evident  that  she  had  not  abandoned  them,  for  she 
would  at  the  same  time  have  given  up  her  rides  to  the 
bois,  which  were  to  her  an  abominable  torment. 

But  passion  can  neither  reason  nor  discuss. 

"  She  mistrusts  me,  who  would  give  my  life  for  her," 
repeated  Maxence. 

And  the  idea  was  so  painful  to  him,  that  he  resolved  to 
clear  his  doubts  at  any  cost,  preferring  the  worst  misery 
to  the  anxiety  which  was  gnawing  at  his  heart. 

And  as  soon  as  he  found  himself  alone  with  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne, arming  himself  with  all  his  courage,  and  looking 
her  straight  in  the  eyes, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  307 

"  You  never  speak  to  me  any  more  of  your  enemies  ?  " 
he  said. 

She  doubtless  understood  what  was  passing  within 
him. 

"  It's  because  I  don't  hear  any  thing  of  them  myself," 
she  answered  gently. 

"  Then  you  have  given  up  your  purpose  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  What  are  your  hopes,  then,  and  what  are  your  pros- 
pects ?  " 

"  Extraordinary  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  I  must  confess 
that  I  know  nothing  about  it.  My  friend  the  commis- 
sary has  his  plan,  I  am  certain;  and  he  is  following  it 
with  an  indefatigable  obstinacy.  I  am  but  an  instru- 
ment in  his  hands.  I  never  do  any  thing  without  con- 
sulting him ;  and  what  he  advises  me  to  do  I  do." 

Maxence  started  upon  his  chair. 

"  Was  it  he,  then,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  bitter  irony, 
"  who  suggested  to  you  the  idea  of  our  fraternal  associa- 
tion?" 

A  frown  appeared  upon  the  girl's  countenance.  She 
evidently  felt  hurt  by  the  tone  of  this  species  of  inter- 
rogatory. 

"  At  least  he  did  not  disapprove  of  it,"  she  re- 
plied. 

But  that  answer  was  just  evasive  enough  to  excite 
Maxence's  anxiety. 

"  Was  it  from  him  too,"  he  went  ont  "  that  came  the 
lovely  idea  of  having  me  enter  the  Mutual  Credit  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  from  him." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  explain." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me?  " 

"  Because  he  requested  me  not  to  do  so." 


308  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

From  being  red  at  the  start,  Maxence  had  now  be- 
come very  pale. 

"  And  so,"  he  resumed,  "  it  is  that  man,  that  police- 
agent,  who  is  the  real  arbiter  of  my  fate ;  and  if  to-mor- 
row he  commanded  you  to  break  off  with  me  " — 

Mile.  Lucienne  drew  herself  up. 

"  Enough ! "  she  interrupted  in  a  brief  tone, 
"  enough !  There  is  not  in  my  whole  existence  a  single 
act  which  would  give  to  my  bitterest  enemy  the  right  to 
suspect  my  loyalty ;  and  now  you  accuse  me  of  the  basest 
treason.  What  have  you  to  reproach  me  with  ?  Have  I 
not  been  faithful  to  the  pact  sworn  between  us.  Have  I 
not  always  been  for  you  the  best  of  comrades  and  the 
most  devoted  of  friends  ?  I  remained  silent,  because  the 
man  in  whom  I  have  the  fullest  confidence  requested  me 
to  do  so;  but  he  knew,  that,  if  you  questioned  me,  I 
would  speak.  Did  you  question  me?  And  now  what 
more  do  you  want  ?  That  I  should  stoop  to  quiet  the  sus- 
picions of  your  morbid  mind?  That  I  do  not  mean  to 
do." 

She  was  not,  perhaps,  entirely  right;  but  Maxence 
was  certainly  wrong.  He  acknowledged  it,  wept,  im- 
plored her  pardon,  which  was  granted ;  and  this  expla- 
nation only  served  to  rivet  more  closely  the  fetters  that 
bound  him. 

It  is  true,  that,  availing  himself  of  the  permission  that 
had  been  granted  him,  he  kept  himself  constantly  in- 
formed of  Mile.  Lucienne's  doings.  He  learnt  from  her 
that  her  friend  the  commissary  had  held  a  most  minute 
investigation  at  Louveciennes,  and  that  the  footman  who 
went  to  the  bois  with  her  was  now,  in  reality,  a  detective. 
And  at  last,  one  day, — 

"  My  friend  the  commissary,"  she  said,  "  thinks  he  is 
on  the  right  track  now." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  309 


XXIX. 

SUCH  was  the  exact  situation  of  Maxence  and  Mile. 
Lucienne  on  that  eventful  Saturday  evening  in  the 
month  of  April,  1872,  when  the  police  came  to  arrest  M. 
Vincent  Favoral,  on  the  charge  of  embezzlement  and 
forgery. 

It  will  be  remembered,  how,  at  his  mother's  request, 
Maxence  had  spent  that  night  in  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  and 
how,  the  next  morning,  unable  any  longer  to  resist  his 
eager  desire  to  see  Mile.  Lucienne,  he  had  started  for 
the  Hotel  des  Folies,  leaving  his  sister  alone  at  home. 

He  retired  to  his  room,  as  she  had  requested  him, 
and,  sinking  upon  his  old  arm-chair  in  a  fit  of  the  deep- 
est distress, — 

"  She  is  singing,"  he  murmured :  "  Mme.  Fortin  has 
not  told  her  any  thing." 

And  at  the  same  moment  Mile.  Lucienne  had  re- 
sumed her  song,  the  words  of  which  reached  him  like  a 
bitter  raillery, — 

"  Hope !  O  sweet,  deceiving  word ! 
Mad  indeed  is  he, 
Who  does  think  he  can  trust  thee, 
And  take  thy  coin  can  afford. 
Over  his  door  every  one 
Will  hang  thee  to  his  sorrow, 
Then  saying  of  days  begone, 
'  Cash  to-day,  credit  to-morrow ! ' 
'Tis  very  nice  to  run; 
But  to  have  is  better  fun !  " 

"  What  will  she  say,"  thought  Maxence,  "  when  she 
learns  the  horrible  truth  ?  " 

And  he  felt  a  cold  perspiration  starting  on  his  tem- 
ples when  he  remembered  Mile.  Lucienne's  pride,  and 


310  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

that  honor  has  her  only  faith,  the  safety-plank  to  which 
she  had  desperately  clung  in  the  midst  of  the  storms  of 
her  life.  What  if  she  should  leave  him,  now  that  the 
name  he  bore  was  disgraced ! 

A  rapid  and  light  step  on  the  landing  drew  him  from 
his  gloomy  thoughts.  Almost  immediately,  the  door 
opened,  and  Mile.  Lucienne  came  in. 

She  must  have  dressed  in  haste;  for  she  was  just 
finishing  hooking  her  dress,  the  simplicity  of  which 
seemed  studied,  so  marvellously  did  it  set  off  the  ele- 
gance of  her  figure,  the  splendors  of  her  waist,  and  the 
rare  perfections  of  her  shoulders  and  of  her  neck. 

A  look  of  intense  dissatisfaction  could  be  read  upon 
her  lovely  features ;  but,  as  soon  as  she  had  seen  Max- 
ence,  her  countenance  changed. 

And,  in  fact,  his  look  of  utter  distress,  the  disorder  of 
his  garments,  his  livid  paleness,  and  the  sinister  look  of 
his  eyes,  showed  plainly  enough  that  a  great  misfortune 
had  befallen  him.  In  a  voice  whose  agitation  betrayed 
something  more  than  the  anxiety  and  the  sympathy  of  a 
friend, — 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  has  happened  ?  "  in- 
quired the  girl. 

"  A  terrible  misfortune,"  he  replied. 

He  was  hesitating:  he  wished  to  tell  every  thing  at 
once,  and  knew  not  how  to  begin. 

"  I  have  told  you,"  he  said,  "  that  my  family  was  very 
rich." 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  we  have  nothing  left,  absolutely  nothing." 

She  seemed  to  breathe  more  freely,  and,  in  a  tone  of 
friendly  irony, — 

"  And  it  is  the  loss  of  your  fortune,"  she  said,  "  that 
distresses  you  thus  ?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  311 

He  raised  himself  painfully  to  his  feet,  and,  in  a  low 
hoarse  voice, — 

"  Honor  is  lost  too,"  he  uttered. 

"Honor?" 

"  Yes.   My  father  has  stolen :  my  father  has  forged !  " 

She  had  become  whiter  than  her  collar. 

"  Your  father !  "  she  stammered. 

"  Yes.  For  years  he  has  been  using  tTie  money  that 
was  intrusted  to  him,  until  the  deficit  now  amounts  to 
twelve  millions." 

"  Great  heavens !  " 

"  And,  notwithstanding  the  enormity  of  that  sum,  he 
was  reduced,  during  the  latter  months,,  to  the  most 
miserable  expedients, — going  from  door  to  door  in  the 
neighborhood,  soliciting  deposits,  until  he  actually  basely 
swindled  a  poor  newspaper-vender  out  of  five  hundred 
francs." 

"  Why,  this  is  madness !  And  how  did  you  rind  out  ?  " 

"  Last  night  they  came  to  arrest  him.  Fortunately  we 
had  been  notified ;  and  I  helped  him  to  escape  through  a 
window  of  my  sister's  room,  which  opens  on  the  yard  of 
an  adjoining  house." 

"  And  where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"Who  knows?" 

"  Had  he  any  money?  " 

"  Everybody  thinks  that  he  carries  off  millions.  I  do 
not  believe  it.  He  even  refused  to  take  the  few  thousand 
francs  which  M.  de  Thaller  had  brought  him  to  facili- 
tate his  flight." 

Mile.  Lucienne  shuddered. 

"  Did  you  see  M.  de  Thaller  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  got  to  the  house  a  few  moment  in  advance  of 
the  commissary  of  police;  and  a  terrible  scene  took 
place  between  him  and  my  father." 


312  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  What  was  he  saying  ?  " 

"  That  my  father  had  ruined  him." 

"And  your  father?" 

"  He  stammered  incoherent  phrases.  He  was  like  a 
man  who  has  received  a  stunning  blow.  But  we  have 
discovered  incredible  things.  My  father,  so  austere  and 
so  parsimonious  at  home,  led  a  merry  life  elsewhere, 
spending  money  without  stint.  It  was  for  a  woman  that 
he  robbed." 

"  And — do  you  know  who  that  woman  is  ?  " 

"  No.  But  I  can  find  out  from  the  writer  of  the  arti- 
cle in  this  paper,  who  says  that  he  knows  her.  See !  " 

Mile.  Lucienne  took  the  paper  which  Maxence  was 
holding  out  to  her :  but  she  hardly  condescended  to  look 
at  it. 

"  But  what's  your  idea  now  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  my  father  is  innocent ;  but  I 
believe  that  there  are  people  more  guilty  than  he, — skil- 
ful and  prudent  knaves,  who  have  made  use  of  him  as  a 
man  of  straw, — villains  who  will  quietly  digest  their 
share  of  the  millions  (the  biggest  one,  of  course),  while 
he  will  be  sent  to  prison." 

A  fugitive  blush  colored  Mile.  Lucienne's  cheeks. 

"  That  being  the  case,"  she  interrupted,  "  what  do  you 
expect  to  do  ?  " 

"  Avenge  my  father,  if  possible,  and  discover  his  ac- 
complices, if  he  has  any." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 

"  That's  right,"  she  said.  "  But  how  will  you  go  about 
it?" 

"  I  don't  know  yet.  At  any  rate,  I  must  first  of  all 
run  to  the  newspaper  office,  and  get  that  woman's  ad- 
dress." 

But  Mile.  Lucienne  stopped  him. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  313 

"  No,"  she  uttered :  "  it  isn't  there  that  you  must  go. 
You  must  come  with  me  to  see  my  friend  the  commis- 
sary." 

Maxence  received  this  suggestion  with  a  gesture  of 
surprise,  almost  of  terror. 

"  Why,  how  can  you  think  of  such  a  thing?  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "My  father  is  fleeing  from  justice;  and  you 
want  me  to  take  for  my  confidant  a  commissary  of  po- 
lice,— the  very  man  whose  duty  it  is  to  arrest  him,  if  he 
can  find  him !  " 

But  he  interrupted  himself  for  a  moment,  staring  and 
gaping,  as  if  the  truth  had  suddenly  flashed  upon  his 
mind  in  dazzling  evidence. 

"  For  my  father  has  not  gone  abroad,"  he  went  on. 
"  It  is  in  Paris  that  he  is  hiding :  I  am  sure  of  it.  You 
have  seen  him  ?  " 

Mile.  Lucienne  really  thought  that  Maxence  was 
losing  his  mind. 

"  I  have  seen  your  father — I  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  last  evening.  How  could  I  have  forgotten  it  ? 
While  you  were  waiting  for  me  down  stairs,  between 
eleven  and  half-past  eleven  a  middle-aged  man,  thin, 
wearing  a  long  overcoat,  came  and  asked  for  me." 

"  Yes,  I  remember." 

"  He  spoke  to  you  in  the  yard." 

"  That's  a  fact." 

"What  did  he  tell  you?" 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  evidently  trying  to  tax 
her  memory ;  then, — 

"  Nothing,"  she  replied,  "  that  he  had  not  already 
said  before  the  Fortins;  that  he  wanted  to  see  you  on 
important  business,  and  was  sorry  not  to  find  you  in. 
What  surprised  me,  though,  is,  that  he  was  speaking  as 
if  he  knew  me,  and  knew  that  I  was  a  friend  of  yours." 


314  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Then,  striking  her  forehead, — 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  she  went  on.  "  Perhaps 
that  man  was  indeed  your  father.  Wait  a  minute.  Yes, 
he  seemed  quite  excited,  and  at  every  moment  he  looked 
around  towards  the  door.  He  said  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  return,  but  that  he  would  write  to  you, 
and  that  probably  he  would  require  your  assistance  and 
your  services." 

"  You  see,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  almost  crazy  with 
subdued  excitement,  "  it  was  my  father.  He  is  going  to 
write,  to  return,  perhaps ;  and,  under  the  circumstances, 
to  apply  to  a  commissary  of  police  would  be  sheer  folly, 
almost  treason." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  So  much  the  more  reason,"  she  uttered,  "  why  you 
should  follow  my  advice.  Have  you  ever  had  occasion  to 
repent  doing  so  ?  " 

"  No,  but  you  may  be  mistaken." 

"  I  am  not  mistaken." 

She  expressed  herself  in  a  tone  of  such  absolute  cer- 
tainty, that  Maxence,  in  the  disorder  of  his  mind,  was 
at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  imagine,  what  to  believe. 

"  You  must  have  some  reason  to  urge  me  thus,"  he 
said. 

"  I  have." 

"  Why  not  tell  it  to  me  then  ?  " 

"  Because  I  should  have  no  proofs  to  furnish  you  of 
my  assertions.  Because  I  should  have  to  go  into  details 
which  you  would  not  understand.  Because,  above  all,  I 
am  following  one  of  those  inexplicable  presentiments 
which  never  deceive." 

It  was  evident  that  she  was  not  willing  to  unveil  her 
whole  mind ;  and  yet  Maxence  felt  himself  terribly  stag- 
gered. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  315 

"  Think  of  my  agony,"  he  said,  "  if  I  were  to  cause 
my  father's  arrest.'' 

"  Would  my  own  be  less  ?  Can  any  misfortune  strike 
you  without  reaching  me  ?  Let  us  reason  a  little.  What 
were  you  saying  a  moment  since?  That  certainly  your 
father  is  not  as  guilty  as  people  think ;  at  any  rate,  that 
he  is  not  alone  guilty ;  that  he  has  been  but  the  instru- 
ment of  rascals  more  skilful  and  more  powerful  than 
himself;  and  that  he  has  had  but  a  small  share  of  the 
twelve  millions  ?  " 

"  Such  is  my  absolute  conviction." 

"  And  that  you  would  like  to  deliver  up  to  justice 
the  villains  who  have  benefited  by  your  father's  crime, 
and  who  think  themselves  sure  of  impunity  ?  " 

Tears  of  anger  fell  from  Maxence's  eyes. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  take  away  all  my  courage  ?  "  he  mur- 
mured. 

"  No ;  but  I  wish  to  demonstrate  to  you  the  necessity 
of  the  step  which  I  advise  you  to  take.  The  end  justifies 
the  means ;  and  we  have  not  the  choice  of  means.  Come, 
'tis  to  an  honest  man  and  a  tried  friend  that  I  shall  take 
you.  Fear  nothing.  If  he  remembers  that  he  is  com- 
missary of  police,  it  will  be  to  serve  us,  not  to  injure 
you.  You  hesitate  ?  Perhaps  at  this  moment  he  already 
knows  more  than  we  do  ourselves/" 

Maxence  took  a  sudden  resolution. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said :  "  let  us  go." 

In  less  than  five  minutes  they  were  off ;  and,  as  they 
went  out,  they  had  to  disturb  Mme.  Fortin,  who  stood 
at  the  door,  gossiping  with  two  or  three  of  the  neigh- 
boring shop-keepers. 

As  soon  as  Maxence  and  Mile.  Lucienne  were  out  of 
hearing, — 

"  You  see  that  young  man,"  said  the  honorable  pro- 


3i6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

prietress  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies  to  her  interlocutors. 
"  Well,  he  is  the  son  of  that  famous  cashier  who  has 
just  run  off  with  twelve  millions,  after  ruining  a  thou- 
sand families.  It  don't  seem  to  trouble  him,  either;  for 
there  he  is,  going  out  to  spend  a  pleasant  day  with  his 
mistress,  and  to  treat  her  to  a  fine  dinner  with  the  old 
man's  money." 

Meantime,  Maxence  and  Lucienne  reached  the  com- 
missary's house.  He  was  at  home ;  they  walked  in.  And, 
as  soon  as  they  appeared, — 

"  I  expected  you,"  he  said. 

He  was  a  man  already  past  middle  age,  but  active  and 
vigorous  still.  With  his  white  cravat  and  long  frock- 
coat,  he  looked  like  a  notary.  Benign  was  the  expressi&n 
of  his  countenance ;  but  the  lustre  of  his  little  gray  eyes, 
and  the  mobility  of  his  nostrils,  showed  that  it  should 
not  be  trusted  too  far. 

"  Yes,  I  expected  you,"  he  repeated,  addressing  him- 
self as  much  to  Maxence  as  to  Mile.  Lucienne.  "  It  is 
the  Mutual  Credit  matter  which  brings  you  here  ?  " 

Maxence  stepped  forward, — 

"  I  am  Vincent  Favoral's  son,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  I 
have  still  my  mother  and  a  sister.  Our  situation  is  hor- 
rible. Mile.  Lucienne  suggested  that  you  might  be 
willing  to  give  me  some  advice ;  and  here  we  are." 

The  commissary  rang,  and,  on  the  bell  being  an- 
swered,— 

"  I  am  at  home  for  no  one,"  he  said. 

And  then  turning  to  Maxence, — 

"  Mile.  Lucienne  did  well  to  bring  you,"  he  said ; 
"  for  it  may  be,  that,  whilst  rendering  her  an  important 
service,  I  may  also  render  you  one.  But  I  have  no  time 
to  lose.  Sit  down,  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

With  the  most  scrupulous  exactness  Maxence  told  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  317 

history  of  his  family,  and  the  events  of  the  past  twenty  - 
four  hours. 

Not  once  did  the  commissary  interrupt  him;  but, 
when  he  had  done, — 

"  Tell  me  your  father's  interview  with  M.  de  Thaller 
all  over  again,"  he  requested,  "  and,  especially,  do  not 
omit  any  thing  that  you  have  heard  or  seen,  not  a  word, 
not  a  gesture,  not  a  look." 

And,  Maxence  having  complied, — 

"  Now,"  said  the  commissary,  "  repeat  every  thing 
your  father  said  at  the  moment  of  going." 

He  did  so.  The  commissary  took  a  few  notes,  and 
then, — 

"  What  were,"  he  inquired,  "  the  relations  of  your 
family  with  the  Thaller  family  ?  " 

"  There  were  none." 

"What!  Neither  Mme.  nor  Mile,  de  Thaller  ever 
visited  you  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  Do  you  know  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  ?  " 

Maxence  stared  in  surprise. 

"  Tregars !  "  he  repeated.  "  It's  the  first  time  that  I 
hear  that  name." 

The  usual  clients  of  the  commissary  would  have  hesi- 
tated to  recognize  him,  so  completely  had  he  set  aside  his 
professional  stiffness,  so  much  had  his  freezing  reserve 
given  way  to  the  most  encouraging  kindness. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  resumed,  "  never  mind  M.  de  Tre- 
gars :  let  us  talk  of  the  woman,  who,  you  seem  to  think, 
has  been  the  cause  of  M.  Favoral's  ruin. 

On  the  table  before  him  lay  the  paper  in  which  Max- 
ence had  read  in  the  morning  the  terrible  article  headed : 
"  Another  Financial  Disaster." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  that  woman,"  he  replied ;  "  but 


318  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

it  must  be  easy  to  find  out,  since  the  writer  of  this  ar- 
ticle pretends  to  know." 

The  commissary  smiled,  not  having  quite  as  much 
faith  in  newspapers  as  Maxence  seemed  to  have. 

"  Yes,  I  read  that,"  he  said. 

"  We  might  send  to  the  office  of  that  paper,"  sug- 
gested Mile.  Lucienne. 

"  I  have  already  sent,  my  child." 

And,  without  noticing  the  surprise  of  Maxence  and 
of  the  young  girl,  he  rang  the  bell,  'and  asked  whether 
his  secretary  had  returned.  The  secretary  answered  by 
appearing  in  person. 

"  Well  ?  "  inquired  the  commissary. 

"  I  have  attended  to  the  matter,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  I 
saw  the  reporter  who  wrote  the  article  in  question ;  and, 
after  beating  about  the  bush  for  some  time,  he  finally 
confessed  that  he  knew  nothing  more  than  had  been  pub- 
lished, and  that  he  had  obtained  his  information  from 
two  intimate  friends  of  the  cashier,  M.  Costeclar  and  M. 
Saint  Pavin." 

"  You  should  have  gone  to  see  those  gentlemen." 

"  I  did." 

"Very  well.   What  then?" 

"  Unfortunately,  M.  Costeclar  had  just  gone  out.  As 
to  M.  Saint  Pavin,  I  found  him  at  the  office  of  his  paper, 
'  The  Financial  Pilot.'  He  is  a  coarse  and  vulgar  per- 
sonage, and  received  me  like  a  pickpocket.  I  had  even  a 
notion  to  " — 

"  Never  mind  that !   Go  on.'* 

"  He  was  closeted  with  another  gentleman,  a  banker, 
named  Jottras,  of  the  house  of  Jottras  and  Brother.  They 
were  both  in  a  terrible  rage,  swearing  like  troopers,  and 
saying  that  the  Favoral  defalcation  would  ruin  them; 
that  they  had  been  taken  in  like  fools,  but  that  they  were 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  319 

not  going  to  take  things  so  easy,  and  they  were  prepar- 
ing a  crushing  article." 

But  he  stopped,  winking,  and  pointing  to  Maxence 
and  Mile.  Lucienne,  who  were  listening  as  attentively  as 
they  could. 

"  Speak,  speak !  "  said  the  commissary.  "  Fear  noth- 
ing." 

"  Well,"  he  went  on,  "  M.  Saint  Pavin  and  M.  Jottras 
were  saying  that  M.  Favoral  was  only  a  poor  dupe,  but 
that  they  would  know  how  to  find  the  others." 

"What  others?" 

"  Ah !  they  didn't  say." 

The  commissary  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you  find  yourself  in  pres- 
ence of  two  men  furious  to  have  been  duped,  who  swear 
and  threaten,  and  you  can't  get  from  them  a  name  that 
you  wrant  ?  You  are  not  very  smart,  my  dear !  " 

And  as  the  poor  secretary,  somewhat  put  out  of  coun- 
tenance, looked  down,  and  said  nothing, — 

"  Did  you  at  least  ask  them,"  he  resumed,  "  who  the 
woman  is  to  whom  the  article  refers,  and  whose  exist- 
ence they  have  revealed  to  the  reporter  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did,  sir." 

"  And  what  did  they  answer  ?  " 

"  That  they  were  not  spies,  and  had  nothing  to  say. 
M.  Saint  Pavin  added,  however,  that  he  had  said  it 
without  much  thought,  and  only  because  he  had  once 
seen  M.  Favoral  buying  a  three  thousand  francs  brace- 
let, and  also  because  it  seemed  impossible  to  him  that  a 
man  should  do  away  with  millions  without  the  aid  of  a 
woman." 

The  commissary  could  not  conceal  his  ill  humor. 

"  Of  course !  "  he  grumbled.  "  Since  Solomon  said. 
'  Look  for  the  woman '  (for  it  was  King  Solomon  who 


320  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

first  said  it),  every  fool  thinks  it  smart  to  repeat  with 
a  cunning  look  that  most  obvious  of  truths.  What 
next?" 

"  M.  Saint  Pavin  politely  invited  me  to  go  to — well, 
not  here." 

The  commissary  wrote  rapidly  a  few  lines,  put  them 
in  an  envelope,  which  he  sealed  with  his  private  seal, 
and  handed  it  to  his  secretary,  saying, — 

"  That  will  do.    Take  this  to  the  prefecture  yourself." 

And,  after  the  secretary  had  gone  out, — 

"  Well,  M.  Maxence,"  he  said,  "  you  have  heard?  " 

Of  course  he  had.  Only  Maxence  was  thinking  much 
less  of  what  he  had  just  heard  than  of  the  strange  inter- 
est this  commissary  had  taken  in  his  affairs,  even  before 
he  had  seen  him. 

"  I  think,"  he  stammered,  "  that  it  is  very  unfortunate 
the  woman  cannot  be  found." 

With  a  gesture  full  of  confidence, — 

"  Be  easy,"  said  the  commissary :  "  she  shall  be  found. 
A  woman  cannot  swallow  millions  at  that  rate,  without 
attracting  attention.  Believe  me,  we  shall  find  her,  un- 
less "— 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and,  speaking  slowly  and 
emphatically, — 

"  Unless,"  he  added,  "  she  should  have  behind  her  a 
very  skilful  and  very  prudent  man.  Or  else  that  she 
should  be  in  a  situation  where  her  extravagance  could 
not  have  created  any  scandal." 

Mile.  Lucienne  started.  She  fancied  she  understood 
the  commissary's  idea,  and  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
truth. 

"  Good  heavens !  "  she  murmured. 

But  Maxence  didn't  notice  any  thing,  his  mind  being 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  321 

wholly  bent  upon  following  the  commissary's  deduc- 
tions. 

"  Or  unless,"  he  said,  "  my  father  should  have  re- 
ceived almost  nothing  for  his  share  of  the  enormous 
sums  subtracted  from  the  Mutual  Credit,  in  which  case 
he  could  have  given  relatively  but  little  to  that  woman. 
M.  Saint  Pavin  himself  acknowledges  that  my  father 
has  been  egregiously  taken  in." 

"By  whom?" 

"  Maxence  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and  several  friends  of  my 
family  (among  whom  M.  Chapelain,  an  old  lawyer) 
think  as  I  do,  that  it  is  very  strange  that  my  father 
should  have  drawn  millions  from  the  Mutual  Credit 
without  any  knowledge  of  the  fact  on  the  part  of  the 
manager." 

"  Then,  according  to  you,  M.  de  Thaller  must  be  an 
accomplice." 

Maxence  made  no  answer. 

"  Be  it  so,"  insisted  the  commissary.  "  I  admit  M.  de 
Thaller's  complicity ;  but  then  we  must  suppose  that  he 
had  over  your  father  some  powerful  means  of  action." 

"  An  employer  always  has  a  great  deal  of  influence 
over  his  subordinates." 

"  An  influence  sufficiently  powerful  to  make  them  run 
the  risk  of  the  galleys  for  his  benefit !  That  is  not  likely. 
We  must  try  and  imagine  something  else." 

"  I  am  trying;  but  I  don't  find  any  thing." 

"  And  yet  it  is  not  all.  How  do  you  explain  your 
father's  silence  when  M.  de  Thaller  was  heaping  upon 
him  the  most  outrageous  insults  ?  " 

"  My  father  was  stunned,  as  it  were." 

"  And  at  the  moment  of  escaping,  if  he  did  have  any 


322  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

accomplices,  how  is  it  that  he  did  not  mention  their 
names  to  you,  to  your  mother,  or  to  your  sister  ?  " 

"  Because,  doubtless,  he  had  no  proofs  of  their  com- 
plicity to  offer." 

"  Would  you  have  asked  him  for  any  ?  " 

"O  sir!" 

"  Therefore  such  is  not  evidently  the  motive  of  his 
silence ;  and  it  might  better  be  attributed  to  some  secret 
hope  that  he  still  had  left." 

The  commissary  now  had  all  the  information,  which, 
voluntarily  or  otherwise,  Maxence  was  able  to  give  him. 
He  rose,  and  in  the  kindest  tone, — 

"  You  have  come,"  he  said  to  him,  "  to  ask  me  for  ad- 
vice. Here  it  is:  say  nothing,  and  wait.  Allow  justice 
and  the  police  to  pursue  their  work.  Whatever  may  be 
your  suspicions,  hide  them.  I  shall  do  for  you  as  I  would 
for  Lucienne,  whom  I  love  as  if  she  were  my  own 
child ;  for  it  so  happens,  that,  in  helping  you,  I  shall  help 
her." 

He  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  astonishment, 
which  at  those  words  depicted  itself  upon  Maxence's 
face ;  and  gayly, — 

"  You  don't  understand,"  he  added.  "  Well,  never 
mind.  It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should." 


XXX. 

Two  o'clock  struck  as  Mile.  Lucienne  and  Maxence 
left  the  office  of  the  commissary  of  police,  she  pensive 
and  agitated,  he  gloomy  and  irritated.  They  reached  the 
Hotel  des  Folies  without  exchanging  a  word.  Mme. 
Fortin  was  again  at  the  door,  speechifying  in  the  midst 
of  a  group  with  indefatigable  volubility.  Indeed,  it  was 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  323 

a  perfect  godsend  for  her,  the  fact  of  lodging  the  son  of 
that  cashier  who  had  stolen  twelve  millions,  and  had 
thus  suddenly  become  a  celebrity.  Seeing  Maxence  and 
Mile.  Lucienne  coming,  she  stepped  toward  them,  and, 
with  her  most  obsequious  smile, — 

"  Back  already  ?  "  she  said. 

But  they  made  no  answer;  and,  entering  the  narrow 
corridor,  they  hurried  to  their  fourth  story.  As  he  en- 
tered his  room,  Maxence  threw  his  hat  upon  his  bed 
with  a  gesture  of  impatience ;  and,  after  walking  up  and 
down  for  a  moment,  he  returned  to  plant  himself  in 
front  of  Mile.  Lucienne. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  are  you  satisfied  now?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  profound  commis- 
seration,  knowing  his  weakness  too  well  to  be  angry  at 
his  injustice. 

"  Of  what  should  I  be  satisfied  ?  "  she  asked  gently. 

"  I  have  done  what  you  wished  me  to." 

"  You  did  what  reason  dictated,  my  friend." 

"  Very  well :  we  won't  quarrel  about  words.  I  have 
seen  your  friend  the  commissary.  Am  I  any  better  off  ?  " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  almost  imperceptibly. 

"  What  did  you  expect  of  him,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Did  you  think  that  he  could  undo  what  is  done  ?  Did 
you  suppose,  that,  by  the  sole  power  of  his  will,  he  would 
make  up  the  deficit  in  the  Mutual  Credit's  cash,  and  re- 
habilitate your  father  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not  quite  mad  yet." 

"  Well,  then,  could  he  do  more  than  promise  you  his 
most  ardent  and  devoted  co-operation  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  allow  her  to  proceed. 

"  And  how  do  I  know,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  he  is  not 
trifling  with  me?  If  he  was  sincere,  why  his  reticence 
and  his  enigmas  ?  He  pretends  that  I  may  rely  on  him, 


324  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

because  to  serve  me  is  to  serve  you.  What  does  that 
mean?  What  connection  is  there  between  your  situa- 
tion and  mine,  between  your  enemies  and  those  of  my' 
father?  And  I — I  replied  to  all  his  questions  like  a 
simpleton.  Poor  fool !  But  the  man  who  drowns  catches 
at  straws ;  and  I  am  drowning,  I  am  sinking,  I  am  foun- 
dering." 

He  sank  upon  a  chair,  and,  hiding  his  face  in  his 
hands, — 

"  Ah,  how  I  do  suffer !  "  he  groaned. 

Mile.  Lucienne  approached  him,  and  in  a  severe  tone, 
despite  her  emotion, — 

"  Are  you,  then,  such  a  coward  ? "  she  uttered. 
"  What !  at  the  first  misfortune  that  strikes  you, — and 
this  is  the  first  real  misfortune  of  your  life,  Maxence, — 
you  despair.  An  obstacle  rises,  and,  instead  of  gathering 
all  your  energy  to  overcome  it,  you  sit  down  and  weep 
like  a  woman.  Who,  then,  is  to  inspire  courage  in  your 
mother  and  in  your  sister,  if  you  give  up  so  ?  " 

At  the  sound  of  these  words,  uttered  by  that  voice 
which  was  all-powerful  over  his  soul,  Maxence  looked 
up. 

"  I  thank  you,  my  friend,"  he  said.  "  I  thank  you  for 
reminding  me  of  what  I  owe  to  my  mother  and  sister. 
Poor  women !  They  are  wondering,  doubtless,  what  has 
become  of  me." 

"  You  must  return  to  them,"  interrupted  the  girl. 

He  got  up  resolutely. 

"  I  will,"  he  replied.  "  I  should  be  unworthy  of  you 
if  I  could  not  raise  my  own  energy  to  the  level  of 
yours." 

And,  having  pressed  her  hand,  he  left.  But  it  was  not 
by  the  usual  route  that  he  reached  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  325 

He  made  a  long  detour,  so  as  not  to  meet  any  of  his  ac- 
quaintances. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last,"  said  the  servant  as  she  opened 
the  door.  "  Madame  was  getting  very  uneasy,  I  can  tell 
you.  She  is  in  the  parlor,  with  Mile.  Gilberte  and  M. 
Chapelain." 

It  was  so.  After  his  fruitless  attempt  to  reach  M.  de 
Thaller,  M.  Chapelain  had  breakfasted  there,  and  had 
remained,  wishing,  he  said,  to  see  Maxence.  And  so, 
as  soon  as  the  young  man  appeared,  availing  himself  of 
the  privileges  of  his  age  and  his  old  intimacy, — 

"  How,"  said  he,  "  dare  you  leave  your  mother  and 
sister  alone  in  a  house  where  some  brutal  creditor  may 
come  in  at  any  moment  ?  " 

"  I  was  wrong,"  said  Maxence,  who  preferred  to 
plead  guilty  rather  than  attempt  an  explanation. 

"  Don't  do  it  again  then,"  resumed  M.  Chapelain.  "  I 
was  waiting  for  you  to  say  that  I  was  unable  to  see  M. 
de  Thaller,  and  that  I  do  not  care  to  face  once  more  the 
impudence  of  his  valets.  You  will,  therefore,  have  to 
take  back  the  fifteen  thousand  francs  he  had  brought  to 
your  father.  Place  them  in  his  own  hands ;  and  don't 
give  them  up  without  a  receipt." 

After  some  further  recommendations,  he  went  off, 
leaving  Mme.  Favoral  alone  at  last  with  her  children. 
She  was  about  to  call.  Maxence  to  account  for  his  ab- 
sence, when  Mile.  Gilberte  interrupted  her. 

"  I  have  to  speak  to  you,  mother,"  she  said  with  a 
singular  precipitation,  "  and  to  you  also,  brother." 

And  at  once  she  began  telling  them  of  M.  Costeclar's 
strange  visit,  his  inconceivable  audacity,  and  his  of- 
fensive declarations. 

Maxence  was  fairly  stamping  with  rage. 


326  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  I  was  not  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to  put  him 
out  of  the  house !  " 

But  another  was  there;  and  this  was  just  what  Mile. 
Gilberte  wished  to  come  to.  But  the  avowal  was  diffi- 
cult, painful  even;  and  it  was  not  without  some  degree 
of  confusion  that  she  resumed  at  last, — 

"  You  have  suspected  for  a  long  time,  mother,  that  I 
was  hiding  something  from  you.  When  you  questioned 
me,  I  lied;  not  that  I  had  any  thing  to  blush  for,  but 
because  I  feared  for  you  my  father's  anger." 

Her  mother  and  her  brother  were  gazing  at  her  with 
a  look  of  blank  amazement. 

"  Yes,  I  had  a  secret,"  she  continued.  "  Boldly,  with- 
out consulting  any  one,  trusting  the  sole  inspirations  of 
my  heart,  I  had  engaged  my  life  to  a  stranger:  I  had 
selected  the  man  whose  wife  I  wished  to  be." 

Mme.  Favoral  raised  her  hands  to  heaven. 

"  But  this  is  sheer  madness !  "  she  said. 

"  Unfortunately,"  went  on  the  girl,  "  between  that 
man,  my  affianced  husband  before  God,  and  myself,  rose 
a  terrible  obstacle.  He  was  poor :  he  thought  my  father 
very  rich ;  and  he  had  asked  me  a  delay  of  three  years 
to  conquer  a  fortune  which  might  enable  him  to  aspire 
to  my  hand." 

She  stopped :  all  the  blood  in  her  veins  was  rushing  to 
her  face. 

"  This  morning,"  she  said,  "  at  the  news  of  our  disas- 
ter, he  came  " — 

"  Here  ?  "  interrupted  Maxence. 

"  Yes,  brother,  here.  He  arrived  at  the  very  moment, 
when,  basely  insulted  by  M.  Costeclar,  I  commanded 
him  to  withdraw,  and,  instead  of  going,  he  was  walking 
towards  me  with  outstretched  arms." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  327 

"  He  dared  to  penetrate  here !  "  murmured  Mme. 
Favoral. 

"  Yes,  mother :  he  came  in  just  in  time  to  seize  M. 
Costeclar  by  his  coat-collar,  and  to  throw  him  at  my 
feet,  livid  with  fear,  and  begging  for  mercy.  He  came, 
notwithstanding  the  terrible  calamity  that  has  befallen 
us.  Notwithstanding  ruin,  and  notwithstanding  shame, 
he  came  to  offer  me  his  name,  and  to  tell  me,  that,  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  he  would  send  a  friend  of  his  family 
to  apprise  you  of  his  intentions." 

Here  she  was  interrupted  by  the  servant,  who,  throw- 
ing open  the  parlor-door,  announced, — 

"  The  Count  de  Villegre." 

If  it  had  occurred  to  the  mind  of  Mme.  Favoral  or 
Maxence  that  Mile.  Gilberte  might  have  been  the  vic- 
tim of  some  base  intrigue,  the  mere  appearance  of  the 
man  who  now  walked  in  must  have  been  enough  to  disa- 
buse them. 

He  was  of  a  rather  formidable  aspect,  with  his  mili- 
tary bearing,  his  bluff  manners,  his  huge  white  mus- 
tache, and  the  deep  scar  across  his  forehead. 

But  in  order  to  be  re-assured,  and  to  feel  confident,  it 
was  enough  to  look  at  his  broad  face,  at  once  energetic 
and  debonair,  his  clear  eye,  in  which  shone  the  loyalty 
of  his  soul,  and  his  thick  red  lips,  which  had  never 
opened  to  utter  an  untruth. 

At  this  moment,  however,  he  was  hardly  in  posses- 
sion of  all  his  faculties. 

That  valiant  man,  that  old  soldier,  was  timid ;  and  he 
would  have  felt  much  more  at  ease  under  the  fire  of  a 
battery  than  in  that  humble  parlor  in  the  Rue  St.  GilleSj 
under  the  uneasy  glance  of  Maxence  and  Mme.  Fa- 
voral. 


328  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Having  bowed,  having  made  a  little  friendly  sign  to 
Mile.  Gilberte,  he  had  stopped  short,  two  steps  from  the 
door,  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

Eloquence  was  not  his  forte.  He  had  prepared  himself 
well  in  advance;  but  though  he  kept  coughing:  hum! 
broum !  though  he  kept  running  his  ringer  around  his 
shirt-collar  to  facilitate  his  delivery,  the  beginning  of  his 
speech  stuck  in  his  throat. 

Seeing  how  urgent  it  was  to  come  to  his  assistance, — 

"  I  was  expecting  you,  sir,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte. 

With  this  encouragement,  he  advanced  towards  Mme. 
Favoral,  and,  bowing  low, — 

"  I  see  that  my  presence  surprises  you,  madame,"  he 
began ;  "  and  I  must  confess  that — hum ! — it  does  not 
surprise  me  less  than  it  does  you.  But  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances require  exceptional  action.  On  any  other 
occasion,  I  would  not  fall  upon  you  like  a  bombshell. 
But  we  had  no  time  to  waste  in  ceremonious  formalities. 
I  will,  therefore,  ask  your  leave  to  introduce  myself:  I 
am  General  Count  de  Villegre." 

Maxence  had  brought  him  a  chair. 

"  I  am  ready  to  hear  you,  sir,"  said  Mme.  Favoral. 

He  sat  down,  and,  with  a  further  effort, — 

"  I  suppose,  madame,"  he  resumed,  "  that  your  daugh- 
ter has  explained  to  you  our  singular  situation,  which, 
as  I  had  the  honor  of  telling  you — hum ! — is  not  strictly 
in  accordance  with  social  usage." 

Mile.  Gilberte  interrupted  him. 

"  When  you  came  in,  general,  I  was  only  just  begin- 
ning to  explain  the  facts  to  my  mother  and  brother." 

The  old  soldier  made  a  gesture,  and  a  face  which 
showed  plainly  that  he  did  not  much  relish  the  prospect 
of  a  somewhat  difficult  explanation — broum!  Never- 
theless, making  up  his  mind  bravely, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  329 

"  It  is  very  simple,"  he  said :  "  I  come  in  behalf  of  M. 
de  Tregars." 

Maxence  fairly  bounced  upon  his  chair.  That  was 
the  very  name  which  he  had  just  heard  mentioned  by  the 
commissary  of  police. 

"  Tregars !  "  he  repeated  in  a  tone  of  immense  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,"  said  M.  de  Villegre.  "  Do  you  know  him, 
by  chance  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  no!" 

"  Marius  de  Tregars  is  the  son  of  the  most  honest 
man  I  ever  knew,  of  the  best  friend  I  ever  had, — of  the 
Marquis  de  Tregars,  in  a  word,  who  died  of  grief  a  few 
years  ago,  after — hum ! — some  quite  inexplicable — 
broum! — reverses  of  fortune.  Marius  could  not  be 
dearer  to  me,  if  he  were  my  own  son.  He  has  lost  his 
parents:  I  have  no  relatives;  and  I  have  transferred  to 
him  all  the  feelings  of  affection  which  still  remained  at 
the  bottom  of  my  old  heart. 

"  And  I  can  say  that  never  was  a  man  more  worthy 
of  affection.  I  know  him.  To  the  most  legitimate  pride 
and  the  most  scrupulous  integrity,  he  unites  a  keen  and 
supple  mind,  and  wit  enough  to  get  the  better  of  the 
toughest  rascal.  He  has  no  fortune  for  the  reason  that 
— hum! — he  gave  up  all  he  had  to  certain  pre- 
tended creditors  of  his  father.  But  whenever  he 
wishes  to  be  rich,  he  shall  be;  and — broum! — he 
may  be  so  before  long.  I  know  his  projects,  his  hopes, 
his  resources." 

But,  as  if  feeling  that  he  was  treading  on  dangerous 
ground,  the  Count  de  Villegre  stopped  short,  and,  after 
taking  breath  for  a  moment, — 

"  In  short,"  he  went  on,  "  Marius  has  been  unable  to 
see  Mile.  Gilberte,  and  to  appreciate  the  rare  qualities 


330  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

of  her  heart,  without  falling  desperately  in  love  with 
her." 

Mme.  Favoral  made  a  gesture  of  protest, — 

"  Allow  me,  sir,"  she  began. 

But  he  interrupted  her. 

"  I  understand  you,  madame,"  he  resumed.  "  You 
wonder  how  M.  de  Tregars  can  have  seen  your  daugh- 
ter, have  known  her,  and  have  appreciated  her,  without 
your  seeing  or  hearing  any  thing  of  it.  Nothing  is  more 
simple,  and,  if  I  may  venture  to  say — hum ! — more 
natural." 

And  the  worthy  old  soldier  began  to  explain  to  Mme. 
Favoral  the  meetings  in  the  Place-Royale,  his  conversa- 
tions with  Marius,  intended  really  for  Mile.  Gilberte, 
and  the  part  he  had  consented  to  play  in  this  little  com- 
edy. But  he  became  embarrassed  in  his  sentences,  he 
multiplied  his  hum !  and  his  broum !  in  the  most  alarm- 
ing manner ;  and  his  explanations  explained  nothing. 

Mile.  Gilberte  took  pity  on  him;  and,  kindly  inter- 
rupting him,  she  herself  told  her  story,  and  that  of 
Marius. 

She  told  the  pledge  they  had  exchanged,  how  they 
had  seen  each  other  twice,  and  how  they  constantly 
heard  of  each  other  through  the  very  innocent  and  very 
unconscious  Signor  Gismondo  Pulei. 

Maxence  and  Mme.  Favoral  were  dumbfounded. 
They  would  have  absolutely  refused  to  believe  such  a 
story,  had  it  not  been  told  by  Mile.  Gilberte  herself. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  sister !  "  thought  Maxence,  "  who 
could  have  suspected  such  a  thing,  seeing  you  always  so 
calm  and  so  meek !  " 

"  Is  it  possible,"  Mme.  Favoral  was  saying  to  herself, 
"  that  I  can  have  been  so  blind  and  so  deaf  ?  " 

As  to  the  Count  de  Villegre,  he  would  have  tried  in 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  331 

vain  to  express  the  gratitude  he  felt  towards  Mile.  Gil- 
berte  for  having  spared  him  these  difficult  explana- 
tions. 

"  I  could  not  have  done  half  as  well  myself,  by  the 
eternal !  "  he  thought,  like  a  man  who  has  no  illusions  on 
his  own  account. 

But,  as  soon  as  she  had  done,  addressing  himself  to 
Mme.  Favoral, — 

"  Now,  madame,"  he  said,  "  you  know  all ;  and  you 
will  understand  that  the  irreparable  disaster  that  strikes 
you  has  removed  the  only  obstacle  which  had  hitherto 
stood  in  the  way  of  Marius." 

He  rose,  and  in  a  solemn  tone,  without  any  hum  or 
broum,  this  time, — 

"  I  have  the  honor,  madame,"  he  uttered,  "  to  solicit 
the  hand  of  Mile.  Gilberte,  your  daughter,  for  my  friend 
Yves-Marius  de  Genost,  Marquis  de  Tregars." 

A  profound  silence  followed  this  speech.  But  this  si- 
lence the  Count  de  Villegre  doubtless  interpreted  in  his 
own  favor;  for,  stepping  to  the  parlor-door,  he  opened 
it,  and  called,  "  Marius !  " 

Marius  de  Tregars  had  foreseen  all  that  had  just 
taken  place,  and  had  so  informed  the  Count  de  Villegre 
in  advance. 

Being  given  Mme.  Favoral's  disposition,  he  knew 
what  could  be  expected  of  her ;  and  he  had  his  own  rea- 
sons to  fear  nothing  from  Maxence.  And,  if  he  mis- 
trusted somewhat  the  diplomatic  talents  of  his  ambassa- 
dor, he  relied  absolutely  upon  Mile.  Gilberte's  energy. 

And  so  confident  was  he  of  the  correctness  of  his  cal- 
culations, that  he  had  insisted  upon  accompanying  his 
old  friend,  so  as  to  be  on  hand  at  the  critical  moment. 

When  the  servant  had  opened  the  door  to  them,  he 
had  ordered  her  to  introduce  M.  de  Villegre,  stating  that 


332  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

he  would  himself  wait  in  the  dining-room.  This  ar- 
rangement had  not  seemed  entirely  natural  to  the  girl; 
but  so  many  strange  things  had  happened  in  the  house 
for  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  that  she  was  prepared 
for  any  thing. 

Besides  recognizing  Marius  as  the  gentleman  who 
had  had  a  violent  altercation  in  the  morning  with  M. 
Costeclar,  she  did  as  he  requested,  and,  leaving  him 
alone  in  the  dining-room,  went  to  attend  to  her  duties. 

He  had  taken  a  seat,  impassive  in  appearance,  but  in 
reality  agitated  by  that  internal  trepidation  of  which  the 
strongest  men  cannot  free  themselves  in  the  decisive  mo- 
ments of  their  life. 

To  a  certain  extent,  the  prospects  of  his  whole  life 
were  to  be  decided  on  the  other  side  of  that  door  which 
had  just  closed  behind  the  Count  de  Villegre.  To  the 
success  of  his  love,  other  interests  were  united,  which 
required  immediate  success. 

And,  counting  the  seconds  by  the  beatings  of  his 
heart, — 

"  How  very  slow  they  are !  "  he  thought. 

And  so,  when  the  door  opened  at  last,  and  his  old 
friend  called  him,  he  jumped  to  his  feet,  and  collecting 
all  his  coolness  and  self-possession,  he  walked  in. 

Maxence  had  risen  to  receive  him ;  but,  when  he  saw 
him,  he  stepped  back,  his  eyes  glaring  in  utter  surprise. 

"  Ah,  great  heavens !  "  he  muttered  in  a  smothered 
voice. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  seemed  not  to  notice  his  stupor. 
Quite  self-possessed,  notwithstanding  his  emotion,  he 
cast  a  rapid  glance  over  the  Count  de  Villegre,  Mme. 
Favoral  and  Mile.  Gilberte.  At  their  attitude,  and  at 
the  expression  of  their  countenance,  he  easily  guessed 
the  point  to  which  things  had  come. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  333 

And,  advancing  towards  Mme.  Favoral,  he  bowed 
with  an  amount  of  respect  which  was  certainly  not  put 
on. 

"  You  have  heard  the  Count  de  Villegre,  madame," 
he  said  in  a  slightly  altered  tone  of  voice.  "  I  am  await- 
ing my  fate." 

The  poor  woman  had  never  before  in  all  her  life  been 
so  fearfully  perplexed.  All  these  events,  which  suc- 
ceeded each  other  so  rapidly,  had  broken  the  feeble 
springs  of  her  soul.  She  was  utterly  incapable  of  col- 
lecting her  thoughts,  or  of  taking  a  determination. 

"  At  this  moment,  sir,"  she  stammered,  taken  un- 
wares,  "  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  answer  you. 
Grant  me  a  few  days  for  reflection.  We  have  some  old 
friends  whom  I  ought  to  consult." 

But  Maxence,  who  had  got  over  his  stupor,  inter- 
rupted her. 

"  Friends  mother !  "  he  exclaimed.  "And  who  are 
they  ?  People  in  our  position  have  no  friends.  What ! 
when  we  are  perishing,  a  man  of  heart  holds  out  his 
hand  to  us,  and  you  ask  to  reflect?  To  my  sister,  who 
bears  a  name  henceforth  disgraced,  the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gare  offers  his  name,  and  you  think  of  consulting  " — 

The  poor  woman  was  shaking  her  head. 

"  I  am  not  the  mistress,  my  son,"  she  murmured ; 
<4  and  your  father  " — 

"  My  father !  "  interrupted  the  young  man,—"  my 
father !  What  rights  can  he  have  over  us  hereafter  ?  " 

And  without  further  discussion,  without  awaiting  an 
answer,  he  took  his  sister's  hand,  and,  placing  it  in  M. 
de  Tregar's  hand, — 

"  Ah !  take  her,  sir,"  he  uttered.  "  Never,  whatever 
she  may  do,  will  she  acquit  the  debt  of  eternal  gratitude 
which  we  this  day  contract  towards  you." 


334  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

A  tremor  that  shook  their  frames,  a  long  look  which 
they  exchanged,  betrayed  alone  the  feelings  of  Marius 
and  Mile.  Gilberte.  They  had  of  life  a  too  cruel  expe- 
rience not  to  mistrust  their  joy. 

Returning  to  Mme.  Favoral, — 

"  You  do  not  understand,  madame,"  he  went  on, 
"  why  I  should  have  selected  for  such  a  step  the  very 
moment  when  an  irreparable  calamity  befalls  you.  One 
word  will  explain  all.  Being  in  a  position  to  serve  you, 
I  wished  to  acquire  the  right  of  doing  so." 

Fixing  upon  him  a  look  in  which  the  gloomiest  des- 
pair could  be  read, — 

"  Alas !  "  stammered  the  poor  woman,  "  what  can  you 
do  for  me,  sir?  My  life  is  ended.  I  have  but  one  wish 
left, — that  of  knowing  where  my  husband  is  hid.  It  is 
not  for  me  to  judge  him.  He  has  not  given  me  the  hap- 
piness which  I  had,  perhaps,  the  right  to  expect;  but 
he  is  my  husband,  he  is  unhappy:  my  duty  is  to  join 
him  wherever  he  may  be,  and  to  share  his  sufferings." 

She  was  interrupted  by  the  servant,  who  was  calling 
her  at  the  parlor-door,  "  Madame,  madame ! " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  inquired  Maxence. 

"  I  must  speak  to  madame  at  once." 

Making  an  effort  to  rise  and  walk,  Mme.  Favoral 
went  out.  She  was  gone  but  a  minute;  and,  when  she 
returned,  her  agitation  had  further  increased. 

"  It  is  the  hand  of  Providence,  perhaps,"  she  said. 

The  others  were  all  looking  at  her  anxiously.  She 
took  a  seat,  and,  addressing  herself  more  especially  to 
M.  de  Tregars, — 

"  This  is  what  happens,"  she  said  in  a  feeble  voice. 
"  M.  Favoral  was  in  the  habit  of  always  changing  his 
coat  as  soon  as  he  came  home.  As  usual,  he  did  so  last 
evening.  When  they  came  to  arrest  him,  he  forgot  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  335 

change  again,  and  went  off  with  the  coat  he  had  on.  The 
other  remained  hanging  in  the  room,  where  the  girl  took 
it  just  now  to  brush  it,  and  put  it  away ;  and  this  port- 
folio, which  my  husband  always  carries  with  him,  fell 
from  its  pocket." 

It  was  an  old  Russia  leather  portfolio,  which  had  once 
been  red,  but  which  time  and  use  had  turned  black.  It 
was  full  of  papers. 

"  Perhaps,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Maxence,  "  we  may 
find  some  information  there." 

He  opened  it,  and  had  already  taken  out  three-fourths 
of  its  contents  without  finding  any  thing  of  any  con- 
sequence, when  suddenly  he  uttered  an  exclamation. 

He  had  just  opened  an  anonymous  note,  evidently 
written  in  a  disguised  hand,  and  at  one  glance  had 
read, — 

"  I  cannot  understand  your  negligence.  You  should 
get  through  that  Van  Klopen  matter.  There  is  the  dan- 
ger." 

"  What  is  that  note  ?  "  inquired  M.  de  Tregars. 

Maxence  handed  it  to  him. 

"  See !  "  said  he,  "  but  you  will  not  understand  the 
immense  interest  it  has  for  me." 

But  having  read  it, — 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Marius.  "  I  understand 
perfectly ;  and  I'll  prove  it  to  you." 

The  next  moment,  Maxence  took  out  of  the  portfolio, 
and  read  aloud,  the  following  bill,  dated  two  days  be- 
fore. 

"  Sold  to  two  leather  trunks  with  safety  locks 

at  220  francs  each ;  say,  francs  440." 

M.  de  Tregars  started. 

"  At  last,"  he  said,  "  here  is  doubtless  one  end  of  the 


336  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

thread  which  will  guide  us  to  the  truth  through  this 
labyrinth  of  iniquities." 

And,  tapping  gently  on  Maxence's  shoulders, — 
"  We  must  talk,"  he  said,  "  and  at  length.  To-mor- 
row, before  you  go  to  M.  de  Thaller's  with  his  fifteen 
thousand  francs,  call  and  see  me:  I  shall  expect  you. 
We  are  now  engaged  upon  a  common  work ;  and  some- 
thing tells  me,  that,  before  long,  we  shall  know  what 
has  become  of  the  Mutual  Credit's  millions." 


PART  II. 

FISHING  IN  TROUBLED  WATERS. 
I. 

"  WHEN  I  think,"  said  Coleridge,  "  that  every  morn- 
ing, in  Paris  alone,  thirty  thousand  fellows  wake  up, 
and  rise  with  the  fixed  and  settled  idea  of  appropriating 
other  people's  money,  it  is  with  renewed  wonder  that 
every  night,  when  I  go  home,  I  find  my  purse  still  in 
my  pocket." 

And  yet  it  is  not  those  who  simply  aim  to  steal  your 
portemonnaie  who  are  either  the  most  dishonest  or  the 
most  formidable. 

To  stand  at  the  corner  of  some  dark  street,  and  rush 
upon  the  first  man  that  comes  along,  demanding,  "  Your 
money  or  your  life,"  is  but  a  poor  business,  devoid  of  all 
prestige,  and  long  since  given  up  to  chivalrous  natures. 

A  man  must  be  something  worse  than  a  simpleton 
to  still  ply  his  trade  on  the  high-roads,  exposed  to  all 
sorts  of  annoyances  on  the  part  of  the  gensdarmes,  when 
manufacturing  and  financial  enterprises  offer  such  a 
magnificently  fertile  field  to  the  activity  of  imaginative 
people. 

And,  in  order  to  thoroughly  understand  the  mode  of 
proceeding  in  this  particular  field,  it  is  sufficient  to  open 
from  time  to  time  a  copy  of  "  The  Police  Gazette,"  and 
to  read  some  trial,  like  that,  for  instance,  of  one  Lefur 

337 


338  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

teux,  ex-president  of  the  Company  for  the  Drainage  and 
Improvement  of  the  Orne  Swamps. 

This  took  place  less  than  a  month  ago  in  one  of  the 
police-courts. 

The  Judge  to  the  Accused. — Your  profession? 

M.  Lefurteux. — President  of  the  company. 

Question. — Before  that  what  were  you  doing? 

Answer. — I  speculated  at  the  bourse. 

Q. — You  had  no  means? 

A. — I  beg  your  pardon :  I  was  making  money. 

Q. — And  it  was  under  such  circumstances  that  you 
had  the  audacity  to  organize  a  company  with  a  capital 
stock  of  three  million  of  francs,  divided  in  shares  of  five 
hundred  francs? 

A. — Having  discovered  an  idea,  I  did  not  suppose 
that  I  was  forbidden  to  work  it  up. 

Q. — What  do  you  call  an  idea? 

A. — The  idea  of  draining  swamps,  and  making  them 
productive. 

Q. — What  swamps?  Yours  never  had  any  existence, 
except  in  your  prospectus. 

A. — I  expected  to  buy  them  as  soon  as  my  capital  was 
paid  in. 

Q. — And  in  the  mean  time  you  promised  ten  per  cent 
to  your  stockholders. 

A — That's  the  least  that  draining  operations  ever  pay. 

Q. — You  have  advertised  ? 

A. — Of  course. 

Q. — To  what  extent? 

A. — To  the  extent  of  about  sixty  thousand  francs. 

Q. — Where  did  you  get  the  money? 

A. — I  commenced  with  ten  thousand  francs,  which  a 
friend  of  mine  had  lent  me;  then  I  used  the  funds  as 
they  came  in. 

Q. — In  other  words,  you  made  use  of  the  money  of 
your  first  dupes  to  attract  others? 

A. — Many  people  thought  it  was  a  good  thing. 

Q. — Who  ?  Those  to  whom  you  sent  your  prospectus 
with  a  plan  of  your  pretended  swamps  ? 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  339 

A. — Excuse  me.     Others  too. 

Q. — How  much  money  did  you  ever  receive? 

A. — About  six  hundred  thousand  francs,  as  the  ex- 
pert has  stated. 

Q. — And  you  have  spent  the  whole  of  the  money? 

A. — Permit  me  ?  I  have  never  applied  to  my  personal 
wants  any  thing  beyond  the  salary  which  was  allowed 
me  by  the  By-laws. 

Q. — How  is  it,  then,  that,  when  you  were  arrested, 
there  were  only  twelve  hundred  and  fifty  francs  found 
in  your  safe,  and  that  amount  had  been  sent  you  through 
the  post-office  that  very  morning?  What  has  become 
of  the  rest? 

A. — The  rest  has  been  spent  for  the  good  of  the  com- 
pany. 

Q. — Of  course!    You  had  a  carriage? 

A. — It  was  allowed  to  me  by  Article  27  of  the  By- 
laws. 

Q. — For  the  good  of  the  company  too,  I  suppose. 

A. — Certainly.  I  was  compelled  to  make  a  certain  dis- 
play. The  head  of  an  important  company  must  en- 
deavor to  inspire  confidence. 

The  Judge,  with  an  Ironical  Look. — Was  it  also  to 
inspire  confidence  that  you  had  a  mistress,  for  whom 
you  spent  considerable  sums  of  money? 

The  Accused,  in  a  Tone  of  Perfect  Candor. — Yes,  sir. 

After  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  the  judge  resumes, — 

Q. — Your  offices  were  magnificent.  They  must  have 
cost  you  a  great  deal  to  furnish. 

A. — On  the  contrary,  sir,  almost  nothing.  The  fur- 
niture was  all  hired.  You  can  examine  the  upholsterer. 

The  upholsterer  is  sent  for,  and  in  answer  to  the 
judge's  questions, — 

"  What  M.  Lefurteux  has  stated,"  he  says,  "  is  true. 
My  specialty  is  to  hire  office-fixtures  for  financial  and 
other  companies.  I  furnish  every  thing,  from  the  book- 
keepers' desks  to  the  furniture  for  the  president's  pri- 
vate room:  from  the  iron  safe  to  the  servant's  livery. 
In  twenty-four  hours,  every  thing  is  ready,  and  the  sub- 
scribers can  come.  As  soon  as  a  company  is  organized, 
like  the  one  in  question,  the  officers  call  on  me,  and,  ac- 


340     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

cording  to  the  magnitude  of  the  capital  required,  I  fur- 
nish a  more  or  less  costly  establishment.  I  have  a  good 
deal  of  experience,  and  I  know  just  what's  wanted. 
When  M.  Lefurteux  came  to  see  me,  I  gauged  his  op- 
eration at  a  glance.  Three  millions  of  capital,  swamps 
in  the  Orne,  shares  of  five  hundred  francs,  small  sub- 
scribers, anxious  and  noisy. 

"  '  Very  well,'  I  said  to  him,  '  it's  a  six-months'  job. 
Don't  go  into  useless  expenses.  Take  reps  for  your  pri- 
vate office :  that's  good  enough.'  " 

The  Judge,  in  a  tone  of  Profound  Surprise. — You 
told  him  that? 

The  Upholsterer,  in  the  Simple  Accent  of  an  Honest 
Man. — Exactly  as  I  am  telling  your  Honor.  He  fol- 
lowed my  advice ;  and  I  sent  him  red  hot  the  furniture 
and  fixtures  which  had  been  used  by  the  River  Fishery 
Company,  whose  president  had  just  been  sent  to  prison 
for  three  years. 

When,  after  such  revelations,  renewed  from  week  to 
week,  with  instructive  variations,  purchasers  may  still 
be  found  for  the  shares  of  the  Tiffla  Mines,  the  Breton- 
eche  Lands,  and  the  Forests  of  Formanoid,  is  it  to  be 
wondered  that  the  Mutual  Credit  Company  found  nu- 
merous subscribers? 

It  had  been  admirably  started  at  that  propitious  hour 
of  the  December  coup  d'etat,  when  the  first  ideas  of  mu- 
tuality were  beginning  to  penetrate  the  financial  world. 

It  had  lacked  neither  capital  nor  powerful  patronage 
at  the  start,  and  had  been  at  once  admitted  to  the  honor 
of  being  quoted  at  the  bourse. 

Beginning  business  ostensibly  as  an  accommodation 
bank  for  manufacturers  and  merchants,  the  Mutual 
Credit  had  had,  for  a  number  of  years,  a  well-deter- 
mined specialty. 

But  gradually  it  had  enlarged  the  circle  of  its  opera- 
tions, altered  its  by-laws,  changed  its  board  of  directors ; 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  341 

and  at  the  end  the  original  subscribers  would  have 
been  not  a  little  embarrassed  to  tell  what  was  the  nature 
of  its  business,  and  from  what  sources  it  drew  its  profits. 

All  they  knew  was,  that  it  always  paid  respectable 
dividends;  that  their  manager,  M.  de  Thaller,  was  per- 
sonally very  rich;  and  that  they  were  willing  to  trust 
him  to  steer  clear  of  the  code. 

There  were  some,  of  course,  who  did  not  view  things 
in  quite  so  favorable  a  light;  who  suggested  that  the 
dividends  were  suspiciously  large;  that  M.  de  Thaller 
spent  too  much  money  on  his  house,  his  wife,  his  daugh- 
ter, and  his  mistress. 

One  thing  is  certain,  that  the  shares  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  Society  were  much  above  par,  and  were  quoted 
at  580  francs  on  that  Saturday,  when,  after  the  closing 
of  the  bourse,  the  rumor  had  spread  that  the  cashier, 
Vincent  Favoral,  had  run  off  with  twelve  millions. 

"  What  a  haul !  "  thought,  not  without  a  feeling  of 
envy,  more  than  one  broker,  who,  for  merely  one-twelfth 
of  that  amount  would  have  gayly  crossed  the  frontier. 

It  was  almost  an  event  in  Paris. 

Although  such  adventures  are  frequent  enough,  and 
not  taken  much  notice  of,  in  the  present  instance,  the 
magnitude  of  the  amount  more  than  made  up  for  the 
vulgarity  of  the  act. 

Favoral  was  generally  pronounced  a  very  smart  man ; 
and  some  persons  declared,  that  to  take  twelve  millions 
could  hardly  be  called  stealing. 

The  first  question  asked  was, — 

"  Is  Thaller  in  the  operation  ?  Was  he  in  collusion 
with  his  cashier  ?  " 

"  That's  the  whole  question." 

"  If  he  was,  then  the  Mutual  Credit  is  better  off  thar 
ever:  otherwise,  it  is  gone  under." 


342  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Thaller  is  pretty  smart." 

"  That  Favoral  was  perhaps  more  so  still." 

This  uncertainty  kept  up  the  price  for  about  half  an 
hour.  But  soon  the  most  disastrous  news  began  to 
spread,  brought,  no  one  knew  whence  or  by  whom ;  and 
there  was  an  irresistible  panic. 

From  425,  at  which  price  it  had  maintained  itself  for 
a  time,  the  Mutual  Credit  fell  suddenly  to  300,  then  200, 
and  finally  to  150  francs. 

Some  friends  of  M.  de  Thaller,  M.  Costeclar,  for  in- 
stance, had  endeavored  to  keep  up  the  market ;  but  they 
had  soon  recognized  the  futility  of  their  efforts,  and 
then  they  had  bravely  commenced  doing  like  the  rest. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  From  the  early  morning, 
it  was  reported,  with  the  most  circumstantial  details,  that 
the  Baron  de  Thaller  had  been  arrested. 

But  in  the  evening  this  had  been  contradicted  by 
people  who  had  gone  to  the  races,  and  who  had  met 
there  Mme.  de  Thaller  and  her  daughter,  more  brilliant 
than  ever,  very  lively,  and  very  talkative. 

To  the  persons  who  went  to  speak  to  them, — 

"  My  husband  was  unable  to  come,"  said  the  baroness. 
"  He  is  busy  with  two  of  his  clerks,  looking  over  that 
poor  Favoral's  accounts.  It  seems  that  they  are  in  the 
most  inconceivable  confusion.  Who  would  ever  have 
thought  such  a  thing  of  a  man  who  lived  on  bread  and 
nuts?  But  he  operated  at  the  bourse;  and  he  had  or- 
ganized, under  a  false  name,  a  sort  of  bank,  in  which 
he  has  very  foolishly  sunk  large  sums  of  money." 

And  with  a  smile,  as  if  all  danger  had  been  luckily 
averted, — 

"  Fortunately,"  she  added,  "  the  damage  is  not  as 
great  as  has  been  reported,  and  this  time,  again,  we  shall 
get  off  with  a  good  fright." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  343 

But  the  speeches  of  the  baroness  were  hardly  suffi- 
cient to  quiet  the  anxiety  of  the  people  who  felt  in  their 
coat-pockets  the  worthless  certificates  of  Mutual  Credit 
stock. 

And  the  next  day,  Monday,  as  early  as  eight  o'clock, 
they  began  to  arrive  in  crowds  to  demand  of  M.  de 
Thaller  some  sort  of  an  explanation. 

They  were  there,  at  least  a  hundred,  huddled  together 
in  the  vestibule,  on  the  stairs,  and  on  the  first  landing, 
a  prey  to  the  most  painful  emotion  and  the  most  violent 
excitement;  for  they  had  been  refused  admittance. 

To  all  those  who  insisted  upon  going  in,  a  tall  serv- 
ant in  livery,  standing  before  the  door,  replied  inva- 
riably, "  The  office  is  not  open,  M.  de  Thaller  has  not 
yet  come." 

Whereupon  they  uttered  such  terrible  threats  and 
such  loud  imprecations,  that  the  frightened  concierge 
had  run,  and  hid  himself  at  the  very  bottom  of  his  lodge. 

No  one  can  imagine  to  what  epileptic  contortions  the 
loss  of  money  can  drive  an  assemblage  of  men,  who 
has  not  seen  a  meeting  of  shareholders  on  the  morrow 
of  a  great  disaster,  with  their  clinched  fists,  their  con- 
vulsed faces,  their  glaring  eyes,  and  foaming  lips. 

They  felt  indignant  at  what  had  once  been  their  de- 
light. They  laid  the  blame  of  their  ruin  upon  the  splen- 
dor of  the  house,  the  sumptuousness  of  the  stairs,  the 
candelabras  of  the  vestibule,  the  carpets,  the  chairs  every 
thing. 

"  And  it  is  our  money  too,"  they  cried,  "  that  has  paid 
for  all  that !  " 

Standing  upon  a  bench,  a  little  short  man  was  exciting 
transports  of  indignation  by  describing  the  magnificence 
of  the  Baron  de  Thaller's  residence,  where  he  had  once 
had  some  dealings. 


344  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

He  had  counted  five  carriages  in  the  carriage-house, 
fifteen  horses  in  the  stables,  and  Heaven  knows  how 
many  servants. 

He  had  never  been  inside  the  apartments,  but  he  had 
visited  the  kitchen;  and  he  declared  that  he  had  been 
dazzled  by  the  number  and  brightness  of  the  saucepans, 
ranged  in  order  of  size  over  the  furnace. 

Gathered  in  a  group  under  the  vestibule,  the  most 
sensible  deplored  their  rash  confidence. 

"  That's  the  way,"  concluded  one,  "  with  all  these  ad- 
venturous affairs." 

"  That's  a  fact.  There's  nothing,  after  all,  like  gov- 
ernment bonds." 

"  Or  a  first  mortgage  on  good  property,  with  subro- 
gation of  the  wife's  rights." 

But  what  exasperated  them  all  was  not  to  be  admitted 
to  the  presence  of  M.  de  Thaller,  and  to  see  that  servant 
mounting  guard  before  the  door. 

"  What  impudence,"  they  growled,  "  to  leave  us  on  the 
stairs ! — we  who  are  the  masters,  after  all." 

"  Who  knows  where  M.  de  Thaller  may  be?  " 

"  He  is  hiding,  of  course." 

"  No  matter :  I  will  see  him,"  clamored  a  big  fat  man, 
with  a  brick-colored  face,  "  if  I  shouldn't  stir  from  here 
for  a  week." 

"  You'll  see  nothing  at  all,"  giggled  his  neighbor. 
"  Do  you  suppose  they  don't  have  back-stairs  and  pri- 
vate entrances  in  this  infernal  shop?" 

"  Ah !  if  I  believed  any  thing  of  the  kind,"  exclaimed 
the  big  man  in  a  voice  trembling  with  passion.  "I'd  soon 
break  in  some  of  these  doors :  it  isn't  so  hard,  after  all." 

Already  he  was  gazing  at  the  servant  with  an  alarm- 
ing air,  when  an  old  gentleman  with  a  discreet  look, 
stepped  up  to  him,  and  inquired, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  345 

"  Excuse  me,  sir :  how  many  shares  have  you  ?  " 

"  Three,"  answered  the  man  with  the  brick-colored 
face. 

The  other  sighed. 

"  I  have  two  hundred  and  fifty,"  he  said.  "  That's 
why,  being  at  least  as  interested  as  yourself  in  not  los- 
ing every  thing,  I  beg  of  you  to  indulge  in  no  violent 
proceedings." 

There  was  no  need  of  further  speaking. 

The  door  which  the  servant  was  guarding  flew  open. 
A  clerk  appeared,  and  made  sign  that  he  wished  to 
speak. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  began,  "  M.  de  Thaller  has  just 
come;  but  he  is  just  now  engaged  with  the  examining 
judge." 

Shouts  having  drowned  his  voice,  he  withdrew  precip- 
itately. 

"  If  the  law  gets  its  finger  in,"  murmured  the  discreet 
gentleman,  "  good-by !  " 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  another.  "  But  we  will  have 
the  precious  advantage  of  hearing  that  dear  baron  con- 
demned to  one  year's  imprisonment,  and  a  fine  of  fifty 
francs.  That's  the  regular  rate.  He  wouldn't  get  off 
so  cheap,  if  he  had  stolen  a  loaf  of  bread  from  a  baker." 

"  Do  you  believe  that  story  about  the  judge?  "  inter- 
rupted rudely  the  big  man. 

They  had  to  believe  it,  when  they  saw  him  appear, 
followed  by  a  commissary  of  police  and  a  porter,  carry- 
ing on  his  back  a  load  of  books  and  papers. 

They  stood  aside  to  let  them  pass ;  but  there  was  no 
time  to  make  any  comments,  as  another  clerk  appeared 
immediately  who  said, — 

"  M.  de  Thaller  is  at  your  command,  gentlemen. 
Please  walk  in." 


346  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

There  was  then  a  terrible  jamming  and  pushing  to  see 
who  would  get  first  into  the  directors'  room,  which 
stood  wide  open. 

M.  de  Thaller  was  standing  against  the  mantel-piece, 
neither  paler  nor  more  excited  than  usual,  but  like  a  man 
who  feels  sure  of  himself  and  of  his  means  of  action. 

As  soon  as  silence  was  restored, — 

'  First  of  all,  gentlemen,"  he  began,  "  I  must  tell  you 
that  the  board  of  directors  is  about  to  meet,  and  that 
a  general  meeting  of  the  stockholders  will  be  called." 

Not  a  murmur.  As  at  the  touch  of  a  magician's  wand, 
the  dispositions  of  the  shareholders  seemed  to  have 
changed. 

"  I  have  nothing  new  to  inform  you  of,"  he  went  on. 
"  What  happens  is  a  misfortune,  but  not  a  disaster.  The 
thing  to  do  was  to  save  the  company;  and  I  had  first 
thought  of  calling  for  funds." 

"  Well,"  said  two  or  three  timid  voices,  "  If  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  " — 

"  But  there  is  no  need  of  it." 

"Ah,  ah!" 

"  And  I  can  manage  to  carry  every  thing  through  by 
adding  to  our  reserve  fund  my  own  personal  fortune." 

This  time  the  hurrahs  and  the  bravos  drowned  the 
voice. 

M.  de  Thaller  received  them  like  a  man  who  deserves 
them,  and,  more  slowly, — 

"  Honor  commanded  it,"  he  continued.  "  I  confess 
it,  gentlemen,  the  wretch  who  has  so  basely  deceived 
us  had  my  entire  confidence.  You  will  understand  my 
apparent  blindness  when  you  know  with  what  infernal 
skill  he  managed." 

Loud  imprecations  burst  on  all  sides  against  Vincent 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  347 

Favorai.  But  the  president  of  the  Mutual  Credit  pro- 
ceeded,— 

"  For  the  present,  all  I  have  to  ask  of  you  is  to  keep 
cool,  and  continue  to  give  me  your  confidence." 

"Yes,  yes!" 

"  The  panic  of  night  before  last  was  but  a  stock- 
gambling  manoeuvre,  organized  by  rival  establishments, 
who  were  in  hopes  of  taking  our  clients  away  from  us. 
They  will  be  disappointed,  gentlemen.  We  will  tri- 
umphantly demonstrate  our  soundness;  and  we  shall 
come  out  of  this  trial  more  powerful  than  ever." 

It  was  all  over.  M.  de  Thaller  understood  his  busi- 
ness. They  offered  him  a  vote  of  thanks.  A  smile  was 
beaming  upon  the  same  faces  that  were  a  moment  before 
contracted  with  rage. 

One  stockholder  alone  did  not  seem  to  share  the  gen- 
eral enthusiasm:  he  was  no  other  than  our  old  friend, 
M.  Chapelain,  the  ex-lawyer. 

"  That  fellow,  Thaller,  is  just  capable  of  getting  him- 
self out  of  the  scrape,"  he  grumbled.  "  I  must  tell 
Maxence." 


II. 

WE  have  every  species  of  courage  in  France,  and  to 
a  superior  degree,  except  that  of  braving  public  opinion. 
Few  men  would  have  dared,  like  Marius  de  Tregars,  to 
offer  their  name  to  the  daughter  of  a  wretch  charged 
with  embezzlement  and  forgery,  and  that  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  scandal  of  the  crime  was  at  its  height. 
But,  when  Marius  judged  a  thing  good  and  just,  he 
did  it  without  troubling  himself  in  the  least  about  what 
others  would  think.  And  so  his  mere  presence  in  the 


348  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Rue.  St.  Gilles  had  brought  back  hope  to  its  inmates.  Of 
his  designs  he  had  said  but  a  word, — "  I  have  the  means 
of  helping  you :  I  mean,  by  marrying  Gilberte,  to  acquire 
the  right  of  doing  so." 

But  that  word  had  been  enough.  Mme.  Favoral  and 
Maxence  had  understood  that  the  man  who  spoke  thus 
was  one  of  those  cool  and  resolute  men  whom  nothing 
disconcerts  or  discourages,  and  who  know  how  to  make 
the  best  of  the  most  perilous  situations. 

And,  when  he  had  retired  with  the  Count  de  Ville- 
gre, — 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  will  do,"  said  Mile.  Gilberte 
to  her  mother  and  her  brother:  "but  he  will  certainly 
do  something;  and,  if  it  is  humanly  possible  to  succeed, 
he  will  succeed." 

And  how  proudly  she  spoke  thus !  The  assistance  of 
Marius  was  the  justification  of  her  conduct.  She 
trembled  with  joy  at  the  thought  that  it  would,  perhaps, 
be  to  the  man  whom  she  had  alone  and  boldly  selected, 
that  her  family  would  owe  their  salvation.  Shaking 
his  head,  and  making  allusion  to  events  of  which  he 
kept  the  secret, — 

"  I  really  believe,"  approved  Maxence,  "  that,  to  reach 
the  enemies  of  our  father,  M.  de  Tregars  possesses  some 
powerful  means ;  and  what  they  are  we  will  doubtless 
soon  know,  since  I  have  an  appointment  with  him  for 
to-morrow  morning." 

It  came  at  last,  that  morrow,  which  he  had  awaited 
with  an  impatience  that  neither  his  mother  nor  his  sister 
could  suspect.  And  towards  half-past  nine  he  was 
ready  to  go  out,  when  M.  Chapelain  came  in.  Still  ir- 
ritated by  the  scenes  he  had  just  witnessed  at  the  Mu- 
tual Credit  office,  the  old  lawyer  had  a  most  lugubrious 
countenance. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  349 

"  I  bring  bad  news,"  he  began.  "  I  have  just  seen  the 
Baron  de  Thaller." 

He  had  said  so  much  the  day  before  about  having 
nothing  more  to  do  with  it,  that  Maxence  could  not  re- 
press a  gesture  of  surprise. 

"  Oh !  it  isn't  alone  that  I  saw  him,"  added  M.  Chape- 
lain,  "  but  together  with  at  least  a  hundred  stockholders 
of  the  Mutual  Credit." 

"  They  are  going  to  do  something,  then  ?  " 

"  No :  they  only  came  near  doing  something.  You 
should  have  seen  them  this  morning!  They  were  fu- 
rious ;  they  threatened  to  break  every  thing ;  they  wanted 
M.  de  Thaller's  blood.  It  was  terrible.  But  M.  de 
Thaller  condescended  to  receive  them ;  and  they  became 
at  once  as  meek  as  lambs.  It  is  perfectly  simple.  What 
do  you  suppose  stockholders  can  do,  no  matter  how  ex- 
asperated they  may  be,  when  their  manager  tells 
them  ? — 

"  '  Well,  yes,  it's  a  fact  you  have  been  robbed,  and 
your  money  is  in  great  jeopardy;  but  if  you  make  any 
fuss,  if  you  complain  thus,  all  is  sure  to  be  lost.'  Of 
course,  the  stockholders  keep  quiet.  It  is  a  well-known 
fact  that  a  business  which  has  to  be  liquidated  through 
the  courts  is  gone;  and  swindled  stockholders  fear  the 
law  almost  as  much  as  the  swindling  manager.  A  single 
fact  will  make  the  situation  clearer  to  you.  Less  than 
an  hour  ago,  M.  de  Thaller's  stockholders  offered  him 
money  to  make  up  the  loss." 

And,  after  a  moment  of  silence, — 

"  But  this  is  not  all.  Justice  has  interfered ;  and  M. 
de  Thaller  spent  the  morning  with  an  examining-magis- 
trate." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  I  have  enough  experience  to  affirm  that  you 


350  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

must  not  rely  any  more  upon  justice  than  upon  the 
stockholders.  Unless  there  are  proofs  so  evident  that 
they  are  not  likely  to  exist,  M.  de  Thaller  will  not  be 
disturbed." 

"  Oh ! " 

"  Why  ?  Because,  my  dear,  in  all  those  big  financial 
operations,  justice,  as  much  as  possible,  remains  blind. 
Not  through  corruption  or  any  guilty  connivance,  but 
through  considerations  of  public  interest.  If  the  man- 
ager was  prosecuted  he  would  be  condemned  to  a  few 
years'  imprisonment;  but  his  stockholders  would  at  the 
same  time  be  condemned  to  lose  what  they  have  left ;  so 
that  the  victims  would  be  more  severely  punished  than 
the  swindler.  And  so,  powerless,  justice  does  not  inter- 
fere. And  that's  what  accounts  for  the  impudence  and 
impunity  of  all  these  high-flown  rascals  who  go  about 
with  their  heads  high,  their  pockets  filled  with  other 
people's  money,  and  half  a  dozen  decorations  at  their 
button-hole." 

"  And  what  then  ?  "  asked  Maxence. 

"  Then  it  is  evident  that  your  father  is  lost.  Whether 
or  not  he  have  accomplices,  he  will  be  alone  sacrificed. 
A  scapegoat  is  needed  to  be  slaughtered  on  the  altar  of 
credit.  Well,  they  will  give  that  much  satisfaction  to 
the  swindled  stockholders.  The  twelve  millions  will  be 
lost;  but  the  shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  will  go  up, 
and  public  morality  will  be  safe." 

Somewhat  moved  by  the  old  lawyer's  tone, — 

"  What  do  you  advise  me  to  do,  then  ? "  inquired 
Maxence. 

"  The  very  reverse  of  what,  on  the  first  impulse,  I  ad- 
vised you  to  do.  That's  why  I  have  come.  I  told  you 
yesterday,  '  Make  a  row,  act,  scream.  It  is  impossible 
that  your  father  be  alone  guilty ;  attack  M.  de  Thaller.' 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  351 

To-day,  after  mature  deliberation,  I  say,  '  Keep  quiet, 
hide  yourself,  let  the  scandal  drop.'  " 

A  bitter  smile  contracted  Maxence's  lips. 

"  It  is  not  very  brave  advice  you  are  giving  me  there," 
he  said. 

"  It  is  a  friend's  advice, — the  advice  of  a  man  who 
knows  life  better  than  yourself.  Poor  young  man,  you 
are  not  aware  of  the  peril  of  certain  struggles.  All 
knaves  are  in  league  and  sustain  each  other.  To  attack 
one  is  to  attack  them  all.  You  have  no  idea  of  the  occult 
influences  of  which  a  man  can  dispose  who  handles  mil- 
lions, and  who,  in  exchange  for  a  favor,  has  always  a 
bonus  to  offer,  or  a  good  operation  to  propose.  If  at 
least  I  could  see  any  chance  of  success !  But  you  have 
not  one.  You  never  can  reach  M.  de  Thaller,  henceforth 
backed  by  his  stockholders.  You  will  only  succeed  in 
making  an  enemy  whose  hostility  will  weigh  upon  your 
whole  life." 

"What  does  it  matter?" 

M.  Chapelain  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  If  you  were  alone,"  he  went  on,  "  I  would  say  as 
you  do,  '  What  does  it  matter  ?  '  But  you  are  no  longer 
alone :  you  have  your  mother  and  sister  to  take  care  of. 
You  must  think  of  food  before  thinking  of  vengeance. 
How  much  a  month  do  you  earn  ?  Two  hundred  francs ! 
It  is  not  much  for  three  persons.  I  would  never  suggest 
that  you  should  solicit  M.  de  Thaller's  protection;  but 
it  would  be  well,  perhaps,  to  let  him  know  that  he  has 
nothing  to  fear  from  you.  Why  shouldn't  you  do  so 
when  you  take  his  fifteen  thousand  francs  back  to  him? 
If,  as  every  thing  indicates,  he  has  been  your  father's 
accomplice,  he  will  certainly  be  touched  by  the  distress 
of  your  family,  and,  if  he  has  any  heart  left,  he  will  man- 
age to  make  you  find,  without  appearing  to  have  any 


352  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

thing  to  do  with  it,  a  situation  better  suited  to  your 
wants.  I  know  that  such  a  step  must  be  very  painful ; 
but  I  repeat  it,  my  dear  child,  you  can  no  longer  think  of 
yourself  alone;  and  what  one  would  not  do  for  himself, 
one  does  for  a  mother  and  a  sister." 

Maxence  said  nothing.  Not  that  he  was  in  any  way 
affected  by  the  worthy  old  lawyer's  speech ;  but  he  was 
asking  himself  whether  or  not  he  should  confide  to  him 
the  events  which  in  the  past  twentv-four  hours  had  so 
suddenly  modified  the  situation.  He  did  not  feel  au- 
thorized to  do  so. 

Marius  de  Tregars  had  not  bound  him  to  secrecy ;  but 
an  indiscretion  might  have  fatal  consequences. 

And,  after  a  moment  of  thought, — 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  he  replied  evasively,  "for 
the  interest  you  have  manifested  in  our  welfare ;  and  we 
shall  always  greatly  prize  your  advice.  But  for  the 
present  you  must  allow  me  to  leave  you  with  my  mother 
and  sister.  I  have  an  appointment  with — a  friend." 

And,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  slipped  M. 
de  Thaller's  fifteen  thousand  francs  in  his  pocket,  and 
hurried  out.  It  was  not  to  M.  de  Tregars  that  he  went 
first,  however,  but  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 

"  Mile.  Lucienne  has  just  come  home  with  a  big 
bundle,"  said  Mme.  Fortin  to  Maxence,  with  her  pleas- 
antest  smile,  as  soon  as  she  had  seen  him  emerge  from 
the  shades  of  the  corridor. 

For  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  the  worthy  hostess 
had  been  watching  for  her  guest,  in  the  hopes  of  ob- 
taining some  information  which  she  might  communicate 
to  the  neighbors.  Without  even  condescending  to  an- 
swer, a  piece  of  rudeness  at  which  she  felt  much  hurt,  he 
crossed  the  narrow  court  of  the  hotel  at  a  bound,  and 
started  up  stairs. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  353 

Mile.  Lucienne's  room  was  open.  He  walked  in,  and, 
still  out  of  breath  from  his  rapid  ascension, — 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  in,"  he  exclaimed. 

The  young  girl  was  busy,  arranging  upon  her  bed  a 
dress  of  very  light  colored  silk,  trimmed  with  ruches 
and  lace,  an  overdress  to  match,  and  a  bonnet  of  won- 
derful shape,  loaded  with  the  most  brilliant  feathers  and 
flowers. 

"  You  see  what  brings  me  here,"  she  replied.  "  I 
came  home  to  dress.  At  two  o'clock  the  carriage  is  com- 
ing to  take  me  to  the  bois,  where  I  am  to  exhibit  this 
costume,  certainly  the  most  ridiculous  that  Van  Klopen 
has  yet  made  me  wear." 

A  smile  flitted  upon  Maxence's  lips. 

"  Who  knows,"  said  he,  "  if  this  is  not  the  last  time 
you  will  have  to  perform  this  odious  task?  Ah,  my 
friend !  what  events  have  taken  place  since  I  last  saw 
you !  " 

"  Fortunate  ones  ?  " 

"You  will  judge  for  yourself." 

He  closed  the  door  carefully,  and,  returning  to  Mile. 
Lucienne, — 

"  Do  you  know  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  more  than  you  do.  It  was  yesterday,  at 
the  commissary  of  police,  that  I  first  heard  his 
name." 

"  Well,  before  a  month,  M.  de  Tregars  will  be  Mile. 
Gilberte  Favoral's  husband." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  exclaimed  Mile.  Lucienne  with  a 
look  of  extreme  surprise. 

But,  instead  of  answering, — 

"  You  told  me/'  resumed  Maxence,  "  that  once,  in  a 
day  of  supreme  distress,  you  had  applied  to  Mme.  de 
Thaller  for  assistance,  whereas  you  were  actually  en- 


354  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

titled  to  an  indemnity  for  having  been  run  over  and  se- 
riously hurt  by  her  carriage." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  Whilst  you  were  in  the  vestibule,  waiting  for  an 
answer  to  your  letter,  which  a  servant  had  taken  up 
stairs,  M.  de  Thaller  came  in ;  and,  when  he  saw  you,  he 
could  not  repress  a  gesture  of  surprise,  almost  of  ter- 
ror." 

"  That  is  true  too." 

"  This  behavior  of  M.  de  Thaller  always  remained  an 
enigma  to  you." 

"  An  inexplicable  one." 

"  Well,  I  think  that  I  can  explain  it  to  you  now." 

"You?" 

Lowering  his  voice;  for  he  knew  that  at  the  Hotel 
des  Folies  there  was  always  to  fear  some  indiscreet 
ear, — 

"  Yes,  I,"  he  answered ;  "  and  for  the  reason  that  yes- 
terday, when  M.  de  Tregars  appeared  in  my  mother's 
parlor,  I  could  not  suppress  an  exclamation  of  surprise, 
for  the  reason,  Lucienne,  that,  between  Marius  de  Tre- 
gars and  yourself,  there  is  a  resemblance  with  which  it 
is  impossible  not  to  be  struck." 

Mile.  Lucienne  had  become  very  pale. 

"  What  do  you  suppose,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  believe,  my  friend,  that  we  are  very  near  pene- 
trating at  once  the  mystery  of  your  birth  and  the  secret 
of  the  hatred  that  has  pursued  you  since  the  day  when 
you  first  set  your  foot  in  M.  de  Thaller's  house." 

Admirably  self-possessed  as  Mile.  Lucienne  usually 
was,  the  quivering  of  her  lips  betrayed  at  this  moment 
the  intensity  of  her  emotion. 

After  more  than  a  minute  of  profound  medita- 
tion,— 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  355 

"  The  commissary  of  police,"  she  said,  "  has  never  told 
me  his  hopes,  except  in  vague  terms.  He  has  told  me 
enough,  however,  to  make  me  think  that  he  has  already 
had  suspicions  similar  to  yours." 

"  Of  course !  Would  he  otherwise  have  questioned 
me  on  the  subject  of  M.  de  Tregars?  " 

Mile.  Lucienne  shook  her  head. 

"  And  yet,"  she  said,  "  even  after  your  explanation, 
it  is  in  vain  that  I  seek  why  and  how  I  can  so  far  dis- 
turb M.  de  Thaller's  security  that  he  wishes  to  do  away 
with  me." 

Maxence  made  a  gesture  of  superb  indifference. 

"  I  confess,"  he  said,  "  that  I  don't  see  it  either.  But 
what  matters  it?  Without  being  able  to  explain  why, 
I  feel  that  the  Baron  de  Thaller  is  the  common  enemy, — 
yours,  mine,  my  father's,  and  M.  de  Tregars'.  And 
something  tells  me,  that,  with  M.  de  Tregars'  help,  we 
shall  triumph.  You  would  share  my  confidence,  Lu- 
cienne, if  you  knew  him.  There  is  a  man !  and  my  sister 
has  made  no  vulgar  choice.  If  he  has  told  my  mother 
that  he  has  the  means  of  serving  her,  it  is  because  he 
certainly  has." 

He  stopped,  and,  after  a  moment  of  silence, — 

"  Perhaps,"  he  went  on,  "  the  commissary  of  police 
might  readily  understand  what  I  only  dimly  suspect; 
but,  until  further  orders,  we  are  forbidden  to  have  re- 
course to  him.  It  is  not  my  own  secret  that  I  have  just 
told  you ;  and,  if  I  have  confided  it  to  you,  it  is  because 
I  feel  that  it  is  a  great  piece  of  good  fortune  for  us ;  and 
there  is  no  joy  for  me,  that  you  do  not  share." 

Mile.  Lucienne  wanted  to  ask  many  more  particulars. 

But,  looking  at  his  watch, — 

"Half-past  ten !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  and  M.  de  Tregars 
waiting  for  me." 


356  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  he  started  off,  repeating  once  more  to  the  young 
girl,— 

"  I  will  see  you  to-night :  until  then,  good  hope  and 
good  courage." 

In  the  court,  two  ill-looking  men  were  talking  with 
the  Fortins.  But  it  happened  often  to  the  Fortins  to 
talk  with  ill-looking  men :  so  he  took  no  notice  of  them, 
ran  out  to  the  Boulevard,  and  jumping  into  a  cab, — 

"  Rue  Lafitte  70,"  he  cried  to  the  driver,  "  I  pay  the 
trip, — three  francs." 

When  Marius  de  Tregars  had  finally  determined  to 
compel  the  bold  rascals  who  had  swindled  his  father  to 
disgorge,  he  had  taken  in  the  Rue  Lafitte  a  small, 
plainly- furnished  apartment  on  the  entresol,  a  fit  dwell- 
ing for  the  man  of  action,  the  tent  in  which  he  takes 
shelter  on  the  eve  of  battle ;  and  he  had  to  wait  upon  him 
an  old  family  servant,  whom  he  had  found  out  of  place, 
and  who  had  for  him  that  unquestioning  and  obstinate 
devotion  peculiar  to  Breton  servants. 

It  was  this  excellent  man  who  came  at  the  first  stroke 
of  the  bell  to  open  the  door.  And,  as  soon  as  Maxence 
had  told  him  his  name, — 

"  Ah !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  my  master  has  been  expecting 
you  with  a  terrible  impatience." 

It  was  so  true,  that  M.  de  Tregars  himself  appeared 
at  the  same  moment,  and,  leading  Maxence  into  the  little 
room  which  he  used  as  a  study, — 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said  whilst  shaking  him  cordially 
by  the  hand,  "  that  you  are  almost  an  hour  behind 
time?" 

Maxence  had,  among  others  the  detestable  fault,  sure 
indication  of  a  weak  nature,  of  being  never  willing  to 
be  in  the  wrong,  and  of  having  always  an  excuse  ready. 
On  this  occasion,  the  excuse  was  too  tempting  to  al- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  357 

low  it  to  escape ;  and  quick  he  began  telling  how  he  had 
been  detained  by  M.  Chapelain,  and  how  he  had  heard 
from  the  old  lawyer  what  had  taken  place  at  the  Mutual 
Credit  office. 

"  I  know  the  scene  already,"  said  M.  de  Tregars. 

And,  fixing  upon  Maxence  a  look  of  friendly  rail- 
lery,— 

"  Only,"  he  added,  "  I  attributed  your  want  of  punc- 
tuality to  another  reason,  a  very  pretty  one  this  time, 
a  brunette." 

A  purple  cloud  spread  over  Maxence's  cheeks. 

"  What !  "  he  stammered,  "  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  must  have  been  in  haste  to  go  and 
tell  a  person  of  your  acquaintance  why,  when  you  saw 
me  yesterday,  you  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise." 

This  time  Maxence  lost  all  countenance. 

"  What,"  he  said,  "  you  know  too?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  smiled. 

"  I  know  a  great  many  things,  my  dear  M.  Maxence," 
he  replied ;  "  and  yet,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  be  suspected 
of  witchcraft,  I  will  tell  you  where  all  my  science  comes 
from.  At  the  time  when  your  house  was  closed  to  me, 
after  seeking  for  a  long  time  some  means  of  hearing 
from  your  sister,  I  discovered  at  last  that  she  had  for 
her  music-teacher  an  old  Italian,  the  Signer  Gismondi 
Pulei.  I  applied  to  him  for  lessons,  and  became  his  pu- 
pil. But,  in  the  beginning,  he  kept  looking  at  me  with 
singular  persistence.  I  inquired  the  reason ;  and  he  told 
me  that  he  had  once  had  for  a  neighbor,  at  the  Batig- 
nolles,  a  young  working-girl,  who  resembled  me  pro- 
digiously. I  paid  no  attention  to  this  circumstance,  and 
had,  in  fact,  completely  forgotten  it ;  when,  quite  lately, 
Gismondo  told  me  that  he  had  just  seen  his  former 
neighbor  again,  and,  what's  more,  arm  in  arm  with  you, 


358  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  that  you  both  entered  together  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 
As  he  insisted  again  upon  that  famous  resemblance,  I 
determined  to  see  for  myself.  I  watched,  and  I  stated, 
de  visa,  that  my  old  Italian  was  not  quite  wrong,  and 
that  I  had,  perhaps,  just  found  the  weapon  I  was  look- 
ing for." 

His  eyes  staring,  and  his  mouth  gaping,  Maxence 
looked  like  a  man  fallen  from  the  clouds. 

"  Ah,  you  did  watch !  "  he  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  snapped  his  ringers  with  a  gesture  of 
indifference. 

"  It  is  certain,"  he  replied,  "  that,  for  a  month  past, 
I  have  been  doing  a  singular  business.  But  it  is  not 
by  remaining  on  my  chair,  preaching  against  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  age,  that  I  can  attain  my  object.  The  end 
justifies  the  means.  Honest  men  are  very  silly,  I  think, 
to  allow  the  rascals  to  get  the  better  of  them  under  the 
sentimental  pretext  that  they  cannot  condescend  to  make 
use  of  their  weapons." 

But  an  honorable  scruple  was  tormenting  Max- 
ence. 

"And  you  think  yourself  well-informed,  sir?"  he 
inquired.  "You  know  Lucienne?" 

"  Enough  to  know  that  she  is  not  what  she  seems 
to  be,  and  what  almost  any  other  would  have  been  in  her 
place;  enough  to  be  certain,  that,  if  she  shows  herself 
two  or  three  times  a  week  riding  around  the  lake,  it  is 
not  for  her  pleasure ;  enough,  also,  to  be  persuaded,  that, 
despite  appearances,  she  is  not  your  mistress,  and  that, 
far  from  having  disturbed  your  life,  and  compromised 
your  prospects,  she  set  you  back  into  the  right  road,  at 
the  moment,  perhaps,  when  you  were  about  to  branch 
off  into  the  wrong  path." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  359 

Marius  de  Tregars  was  assuming  fantastic  propor- 
tions in  the  mind  of  Maxence. 

"  How  did  you  manage,"  he  stammered,  "  thus  to 
find  out  the  truth  ?  " 

"  With  time  and  money,  every  thing  is  possible." 

"  But  you  must  have  had  grave  reasons  to  take  so 
much  trouble  about  Lucienne." 

"  Very  grave  ones,  indeed." 

"  You  know  that  she  was  basely  forsaken  when  quite 
a  child?" 

"  Perfectly." 

"  And  that  she  was  brought  up  through  charity  " — 

"  By  some  poor  gardeners  at  Louveciennes :  yes,  I 
know  all  that." 

Maxence  was  trembling  with  joy.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  his  most  dazzling  hopes  were  about  to  be  realized. 
Seizing  the  hands  of  Marius  de  Tregars, — 

"  Ah,  you  know  Lucienne's  family !  "  he  exclaimed. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  suspicions,"  he  answered ;  "  but,  up  to  this 
time,  I  have  suspicions  only,  I  assure  you." 

"  But  that  family  does  exist ;  since  they  have  already, 
at  three  different  times,  attempted  to  get  rid  of  the  poor 
girl." 

"  I  think  as  you  do ;  but  we  must  have  proofs :  and  we 
shall  find  some.  You  may  rest  assured  of  that." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  the  opening 
door. 

The  old  servant  came  in,  and  advancing  to  the  centre 
of  the  room  with  a  mysterious  look, — 

"  Madame  la  Baronne  de  Thaller,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

Marius  de  Tregars  started  violently. 


360  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"Where?"  he  asked. 

"  She  is  down  stairs  in  her  carriage,"  replied  the  ser- 
vant. "  Her  footman  is  here,  asking  whether  monsieur 
is  at  home,  and  whether  she  can  come  up." 

"Can  she  possibly  have  heard  any  thing?"  mur- 
mured M.  de  Tregars  with  a  deep  frown. 

And,  after  a  moment  of  reflection, — 

"  So  much  the  more  reason  to  see  her,"  he  added 
quickly.  "  Let  her  come.  Request  her  to  do  me  the 
honor  of  coming  up  stairs." 

This  last  incident  completely  upset  all  Maxence's 
ideas.  He  no  longer  knew  what  to  imagine. 

"  Quick,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  to  him :  "  quick,  dis- 
appear ;  and,  whatever  you  may  hear,  not  a  word !  " 

And  he  pushed  him  into  his  bedroom,  which  was  di- 
vided from  the  study  by  a  mere  tapestry  curtain. 

It  was  time;  for  already  in  the  next  room  could  be 
heard  a  great  rustling  of  silk  and  starched  petticoats. 
Mme.  de  Thaller  appeared. 

She  was  still  the  same  coarsely  beautiful  woman,  who, 
sixteen  years  before,  had  sat  at  Mme.  Favoral's  table. 
Time  had  passed  without  scarcely  touching  her  with  the 
tip  of  his  wing.  Her  flesh  had  retained  its  dazzling 
whiteness;  her  hair,  of  a  bluish  black,  its  marvellous 
opulence;  her  lips,  their  carmine  hue;  her  eyes,  their 
lustre.  Her  figure  only  had  become  heavier,  her  fea- 
tures less  delicate ;  and  her  neck  and  throat  had  lost  their 
undulations,  and  the  purity  of  their  outlines. 

But  neither  the  years,  nor  the  millions,  nor  the  in- 
timacy of  the  most  fashionable  women,  had  been  able  to 
give  her  those  qualities  which  cannot  be  acquired, — 
grace,  distinction,  and  taste. 

If  there  was  a  woman  accustomed  to  dress,  it  was  she : 
a  splendid  dry-goods  store  could  have  been  set  up  with 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     361 

the  silks  and  the  velvets,  the  satins  and  cashmeres,  the 
muslins,  the  laces,  and  all  the  known  tissues,  that  had 
passed  over  her  shoulders. 

Her  elegance  was  quoted  and  copied.  And  yet  there 
was  about  her  always  and  under  all  circumstances,  an 
indescribable  flavor  of  the  parvenue.  Her  gestures  had 
remained  trivial ;  her  voice,  common  and  vulgar. 

Throwing  herself  into  an  arm-chair,  and  bursting  into 
a  loud  laugh, — 

"  Confess,  my  dear  marquis,"  she  said,  "  that  you  are 
terribly  astonished  to  see  me  thus  drop  upon  you,  with- 
„  out  warning,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"  I  feel,  above  all,  terribly  flattered,"  replied  M.  de 
Tregars,  smiling. 

With  a  rapid  glance  she  was  surveying  the  little 
study,  the  modest  furniture,  the  papers  piled  on  the  desk, 
as  if  she  had  hoped  that  the  dwelling  would  reveal  to 
her  something  of  the  master's  ideas  and  projects. 

"  I  was  just  coming  from  Van  Klopen's,"  she  re- 
sumed ;  "  and  passing  before  your  house,  I  took  a  fancy 
to  come  in  and  stir  you  up ;  and  here  I  am." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world,  and 
of  the  best  world,  to  allow  his  features  to  betray  the  se- 
cret of  his  impressions;  and  yet,  to  any  one  who  had 
known  him  well,  a  certain  contraction  of  the  eyelids 
would  have  revealed  a  serious  annoyance  and  an  intense 
anxiety. 

"  How  is  the  baron  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  As  sound  as  an  oak/'  answered  Mme.  de  Thaller, 
"  notwithstanding  all  the  cares  and  the  troubles,  which 
you  can  well  imagine.  By  the  way,  you  know  what  has 
happened  to  us  ?  " 

"  I  read  in  the  papers  that  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  had  disappeared." 


362  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  it  is  but  too  true.  That  wretch  Favoral  has 
gone  off  with  an  enormous  amount  of  money." 

"  Twelve  millions,  I  heard." 

"  Something  like  it.  A  man  who  had  the  reputation 
of  a  saint  too;  a  puritan.  Trust  people's  faces  after 
that!  I  never  liked  him,  I  confess.  But  M.  de  Thaller 
had  a  perfect  fancy  for  him ;  and,  when  he  had  spoken 
of  his  Favoral,  there  was  nothing  more  to  say.  Any 
way,  he  has  cleared  out,  leaving  his  family  without 
means.  A  very  interesting  family,  it  seems,  too, — a  wife 
who  is  goodness  itself,  and  a  charming  daughter:  at 
least,  so  says  Costeclar,  who  is  very  much  in  love  with 
her." 

M.  de  Tregars'  countenance  remained  perfectly  in- 
different, like  that  of  a  man  who  is  hearing  about  per- 
sons and  things  in  which  he  does  not  take  the  slightest 
interest. 

Mme.  de  Thaller  noticed  this. 

"  But  it  isn't  to  tell  you  all  this,"  she  went  on,  "  that 
I  came  up.  It  is  an  interested  motive  brought  me.  We 
have,  some  of  my  friends  and  myself,  organized  a  lottery 
— a  work  of  charity,  my  dear  marquis,  and  quite  pa- 
triotic— for  the  benefit  of  the  Alsatians.  I  have  lots  of 
tickets  to  dispose  of ;  and  I've  thought  of  you  to  help  me 
out.'1 

More  smiling  than  ever, — 

"  I  am  at  your  orders,  madame,"  answered  Marius, 
"  but,  in  mercy,  spare  me." 

She  took  out  some  tickets  from  a  small  shell  pocket- 
book. 

"  Twenty,  at  ten  francs,"  she  said.  "  It  isn't  too  much, 
is  it?" 

"  It  is  a  great  deal  for  my  modest  resources." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  363 

She  pocketed  the  ten  napoleons  which  he  handed  her, 
and,  in  a  tone  of  ironical  compassion, — 

"  Are  you  so  very  poor,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Why,  I  am  neither  banker  nor  broker,  you  know." 

She  had  risen,  and  was  smoothing  the  folds  of  her 
dress. 

"  Well,  my  dear  marquis,"  she  resumed,  "  it  is  cer- 
tainly not  me  who  will  pity  you.  When  a  man  of  your 
age,  and  with  your  name,  remains  poor,  it  is  his  own 
fault.  Are  there  no  rich  heiresses  ?  " 

"  I  confess  that  I  haven't  tried  to  find  one  yet." 

She  looked  at  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  then  sud- 
denly bursting  out  laughing, — 

"  Look  around  you,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  sure  you'll 
not  be  long  discovering  a  beautiful  young  girl,  very 
blonde,  who  would  be  delighted  to  become  Marquise  de 
Tregars,  and  who  would  bring  in  her  apron  a  dowry  o£ 
twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  thousand  francs  in  good  se- 
curities,— securities  which  the  Favorals  can't  carry  off. 
Think  well,  and  then  come  to  see  us.  You  know  that 
M.  de  Thaller  is  very  fond  of  you;  and,  after  all  the 
trouble  we  have  been  having,  you  owe  us  a  visit." 

Whereupon  she  went  out,  M.  de  Tregars,  going  down 
to  escort  her  to  her  carriage. 

But  as  he  came  up, — 

"  Attention !  "  he  cried  to  Maxence ;  "  for  it's  very 
evident  that  the  Thallers  have  wind  of  something." 


III. 

IT  was  a  revelation,  that  visit  of  Mme.  de  Thaller's ; 
and  there  was  no  need  of  very  much  perspicacity  to 


364  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

guess  her  anxiety  beneath  her  bursts  of  laughter,  and  to 
understand  that  it  was  a  bargain  she  had  come  to  pro- 
pose. It  was  evident,  therefore,  that  Marius  de  Tre- 
gars  held  within  his  hands  the  principal  threads  of  that 
complicated  intrigue  which  had  just  culminated  in  that 
robbery  of  twelve  millions.  But  would  he  be  able  to 
make  use  of  them?  What  were  his  designs,  and  his 
means  of  action?  That  is  what  Maxence  could  not  in 
any  way  conjecture. 

He  had  no  time  to  ask  questions. 

"  Come,"  said  M.  Tregars,  whose  agitation  was 
manifest, — "  come,  let  us  breakfast :  w.e  have  not  a  mo- 
ment to  lose." 

And,  whilst  his  servant  was  bringing  in  his  modest 
meal, — 

"  I  am  expecting  M.  d'Escajoul,"  he  said.  "  Show 
him  in  as  soon  as  he  comes." 

Retired  as  he  had  lived  from  the  financial  world, 
Maxence  had  yet  heard  the  name  of  Octave  d'Escajoul. 

Who  has  not  seen  him,  happy  and  smiling,  his  eye 
bright,  and  his  lip  ruddy,  notwithstanding  his  fifty 
years,  walking  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  Boulevard,  with 
his  royal  blue  jacket  and  his  eternal  white  vest  ?  He  is 
passionately  fond  of  everything  that  tends  to  make  life 
pleasant  and  easy ;  dines  at  Bignon's,  or  the  Cafe  An- 
glais; plays  baccarat  at  the  club  with  extraordinary 
luck ;  has  the  most  comfortable  apartment  and  the  most 
elegant  coupe  in  all  Paris.  With  all  this,  he  is  pleased 
to  declare  that  he  is  the  happiest  of  men,  and  is  certainly, 
one  of  the  most  popular;  for  he  cannot  walk  three 
blocks  on  the  Boulevard  without  lifting  his  hat  at  least 
fifty  times,  and  shaking  hands  twice  as  often. 

And  when  any  one  asks,  "  What  does  he  do  ?  "  the  in- 
variable answer  is,  "  Why  he  operates." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  365 

To  explain  what  sort  of  operations,  would  not  be, 
perhaps,  very  easy.  In  the  world  of  rogues,  there  are 
some  rogues  more  formidable  and  more  skilful  than  the 
rest,  who  always  manage  to  escape  the  hand  of  the  law. 
They  are  not  such  fools  as  to  operate  in  person, — not 
they!  They  content  themselves  with  watching  their 
friends  and  comrades.  If  a  good  haul  is  made,  at  once 
they  appear  and  claim  their  share.  And,  as  they  al- 
ways threaten  to  inform,  there  is  no  help  for  it  but  to  let 
them  pocket  the  clearest  of  the  profit. 

Well,  in  a  more  elevated  sphere,  in  the  world  of  spec- 
ulation, it  is  precisely  that  lucrative  and  honorable  in- 
dustry which  M.  d'Escajoul  carries  on.  Thoroughly 
master  of  his  ground,  possessing  a  superior  scent  and 
an  imperturbable  patience,  always  awake,  and  continu- 
ally on  the  watch,  he  never  operates  unless  he  is  sure 
to  win. 

And  the  day  when  the  manager  of  some  company  has 
violated  his  charter  or  stretched  the  law  a  little  too  far, 
he  may  be  sure  to  see  M.  d'Escajoul  appear,  and  ask  for 
some  little — advantages,  and  proffer,  in  exchange,  the 
most  thorough  discretion,  and  even  his  kind  offices. 

Two  or  three  of  his  friends  have  heard  him  say, — 

"  Who  would  dare  to  blame  me  ?  It's  very  moral, 
what  I  am  doing." 

Such  is  the  man  who  came  in,  smiling,  just  as  Max- 
ence  and  Marius  de  Tregars  had  sat  down  at  the  table. 

M.  de  Tregars  rose  to  receive  him. 
'  You  will  breakfast  with  us  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  M.  d'Escajoul.  "  I  break- 
fasted precisely  at  eleven,  as  usual.  Punctuality  is  a 
politeness  which  a  man  owes  to  his  stomach.  But  I 
will  accept  w.ith  pleasure  a  drop  of  that  old  C'ognac 
which  you  offered  me  the  other  evening." 


366  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

He  took  a  seat;  and  the  valet  brought  him  a  glass, 
which  he  set  on  the  edge  of  the  table.  Then, — 

"  I  have  just  seen  our  man,"  he  said. 

Maxence  understood  that  he  was  referring  to  M.  de 
Thaller. 

"  Well  ?  "  inquired  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  Impossible  to  get  any  thing  out  of  him.  I  turned 
him  over  and  over,  every  way.  Nothing !  " 

"Indeed!" 

"  It's  so ;  and  you  know  if  I  understand  the  business. 
But  what  can  you  say  to  a  man  who  answers  you  all  the 
time,  '  The  matter  is  in  the  hands  of  the  law ;  experts 
have  been  named;  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
most  minute  investigations  '  ?  " 

By  the  look  which  Marius  de  Tregars  kept  riveted 
upon  M.  d'Escajoul,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  his  confi- 
dence in  him  was  not  without  limits.  He  felt  it,  and, 
with  an  air  of  injured  innocence, — 

"  Do  you  suspect  me,  by  chance,"  he  said,  "  to  have 
allowed  myself  to  be  hoodwinked  by  Thaller?" 

And  as  M.  de  Tregars  said  nothing,  which  was  the 
most  eloquent  of  answers, — 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  insisted,  "  you  are  wrong  to 
doubt  me.  Was  it  you  who  came  after  me  ? .  No.  It 
was  I,  who,  hearing  through  Marcolet  the  history  of 
your  fortune,  came  to  tell  you,  '  Do  you  want  to  know  a 
way  of  swamping  Thaller  ? '  And  the  reasons  I  had 
to  wish  that  Thaller  might  be  swamped:  I  have  them 
still.  He  trifled  with  me,  he  '  sold '  me,  and  he  must 
suffer  for  it ;  for,  if  it  came  to  be  known  that  I  could  be 
taken  in  w.ith  impunity,  it  would  be  all  over  with  my 
credit." 

After  a  moment  of  silence, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  367 

"  Do  you  believe,  then."  asked  M.  de  Tregars,  "  that 
M.  de  Thaller  is  innocent  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  That  would  be  curious." 

"  Or  else  his  measures  are  so  well  taken  that  he  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  fear.  If  Favoral  takes  everything 
upon  himself,  what  can  they  say  to  the  other?  If  they 
have  acted  in  collusion,  the  thing  has  been  prepared 
for  a  long  time;  and,  before  commencing  to  fish,  they 
must  have  troubled  the  water  so  well,  that  justice  will 
be  unable  to  see  anything  in  it." 

"  And  you  see  no  one  who  could  help  us  ?  " 

"  Favoral  "— 

To  Maxence's  great  surprise,  M.  de  Tregars  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"  That  one  is  gone,"  he  said ;  "  and,  were  he  at  hand, 
it  is  quite  evident  that  if  he  was  in  collusion  with  M. 
de  Thaller,  he  would  not  speak." 

"  Of  course." 

"  That  being  the  case,  what  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  Wait." 

M.  de  Tregars  made  a  gesture  of  discourage- 
ment. 

"  I  might  as  well  give  up  the  fight,  then,"  he  said, 
"  and  try  to  compromise." 

"  Why  so  ?  We  don't  know  what  may  happen.  Keep 
quiet,  be  patient;  I  am  here,  and  I  am  looking  out  for 
squalls." 

He  got  up  and  prepared  to  leave. 

"  You  have  more  experience  than  I  have,"  said  M.  de 
Tregars  ;  "  and,  since  that's  your  opinion  " — 

M.  d'Escajoul  had  resumed  all  his  good  humor. 

"  Very  well,  then,  it's  understood,"  he  said,  pressing 


368  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

M.  de  Tregars'  hand.     "  I  am  watching  for  both  of  us ; 
and  if  I  see  a  chance,  I  come  at  once,  and  you  act." 

But  the  outer  door  had  hardly  closed,  when  suddenly 
the  countenance  of  Marius  de  Tregars  changed.  Shak- 
ing the  hand  which  M.  d'Escajoul  had  just  touched, — 

"  Pouah !  "  he  said  with  a  look  of  thorough  disgust, — 
"pouah!" 

And  noticing  Maxence's  look  of  utter  surprise, — 

"  Don't  you  understand,"  he  said,  "  that  this  old 
rascal  has  been  sent  to  me  by  Thaller  to  feel  my  inten- 
tions, and  mislead  me  by  false  information?  I  had 
scented  him,  fortunately;  and,  if  either  one  of  us  is 
dupe  of  the  other,  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that 
it  will  not  be  me." 

They  had  finished  their  breakfast.  M.  de  Tregars 
called  his  servant. 

"  Have  you  been  for  a  carriage  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  at  the  door,  sir." 

"  Well,  then,  come  along." 

Maxence  had  the  good  sense  not  to  over-estimate 
himself.  Perfectly  convinced  that  he  could  accom- 
plish nothing  alone,  he  was  firmly  resolved  to  trust 
blindly  to  Marius  de  Tregars. 

He  followed  him,  therefore ;  and  it  was  only  after  the 
carriage  had  started,  that  he  ventured  to  ask, — 

"Where  are  we  going?" 

"  Didn't  you  hear  me,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars,  "  order 
the  driver  to  take  us  to  the  court-house  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  but  what  I  wish  to  know  is, 
what  we  are  going  to  do  there  ?  " 

"  You  are  going,  my  dear  friend,  to  ask  an  audience 
of  the  judge  who  has  your  father's  case  in  charge,  and 
deposit  into  his  hands  the  fifteen  thousand  francs  you 
have  in  your  pocket." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  369 

"  What !    You  wish  me  to  " — 

"  I  think  it  better  to  place  that  money  into  the  hands 
of  justice,  which  will  appreciate  the  step,  than  into  those 
of  M.  de  Thaller,  who  would  not  breathe  a  word  about 
it.  We  are  in  a  position  where  nothing  should  be  neg- 
lected ;  and  that  money  may  prove  an  indication." 

But  they  had  arrived.  M.  de  Tregars  guided  Max- 
ence  through  the  labyrinth  of  corridors  of  the  build- 
ing, until  he  came  to  a  long  gallery,  at  the  entrance 
of  which  an  usher  was  seated  reading  a  new.spaper. 

"  M.  Barban  d'Avranchel  ?  "  inquired  M.  de  Tre- 
gars. 

"  He  is  in  his  office."  replied  the  usher. 

"  Please  ask  him  if  he  would  receive  an  important 
deposition  in  the  Favoral  case." 

The  usher  rose  somewhat  reluctantly,  and,  while  he 
was  gone, — 

"  You  will  go  in  alone,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  to  Max- 
ence.  "  I  shall  not  appear ;  and  it  is  important  that 
my  name  should  not  even  be  pronounced.  But,  above 
all,  try  and  remember  even  the  most  insignificant  words 
of  the  judge;  for,  upon  what  he  tells  you,  I  shall  reg- 
ulate my  conduct." 

The  usher  returned. 

"  M.  d'Avranchel  will  receive  you,"  he  said. 

And,  leading  Maxence  to  the  extremity  of  the  gal- 
lery, he  opened  a  small  door,  and  pushed  him  in,  say- 
ing at  the  same  time, — 

"  That  is  it,  sir :  walk  in." 

It  was  a  small  room,  with  a  low  ceiling,  and  poorly 
furnished.  The  faded  curtains  and  threadbare  carpet 
showed  plainly  that  more  than  one  judge  had  occupied 
it,  and  that  legions  of  accused  criminals  had  passed 
through  it.  In  front  of  a  table,  two  rrien — one  old, 


370  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  judge;  the  other  young,  the  clerk — were  signing 
and  classifying  papers.  These  papers  related  to  the 
Favoral  case,  and  were  all  indorsed  in  large  letters: 
Mutual  Credit  Company. 

As  soon  as  Maxence  appeared,  the  judge  rose,  and, 
after  measuring  him  with  a  clear  and  cold  look : — 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  interrogated. 

In  a  somewhat  husky  voice,  Maxence  stated  his  name 
and  surname. 

"  Ah !  you  are  Vincent  Favoral's  son,"  interrupted 
the  judge.  "  And  it  was  you  who  helped  him  escape 
through  the  window  ?  I  was  going  to  send  you  a  sum- 
mons this  very  day;  but,  since  you  are  here,  so  much 
the  better.  Vou  have  something  important  to  com- 
municate, I  have  been  told." 

Very  few  people,  even  among  the  most  strictly  hon- 
est, can  overcome  a  certain  unpleasant  feeling  when, 
having  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  palace  of  justice, 
they  find  themselves  in  presence  of  a  judge.  More 
than  almost  any  one  else,  Maxence  was  likely  to  be 
accessible  to  that  vague  and  inexplicable  feeling;  and 
it  was  with  an  effort  that  he  answered,-— 

"  On  Saturday  evening,  the  Baron  de  Thaller  called 
at  our  house  a  few  minutes  before  the  commissary. 
After  loading  my  father  with  reproaches,  he  invited 
him  to  leave  the  country ;  and,  in  order  to  facilitate  his 
flight,  he  handed  him  these  fifteen  thousand  francs.  My 
father  declined  to  accept  them;  and,  at  the  moment  of 
parting,  he  recommended  to  me  particularly  to  return 
them  to  M.  de  Thaller.  I  thought  it  best  to  return  them 
to  you,  sir." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  wished  the  fact  known  to  you  of  the 
money  having  been  offered  and  refused." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  371 

M.  Barban  d'Avranchel  was  quietly  stroking  his 
whiskers,  once  of  a  bright  red,  but  now  almost  entirely 
white. 

"  Is  this  an  insinuation  against  the  manager  of 
the  Mutual  Credit  ?  "  he  asked. 

Maxence  looked  straight  at  him ;  and,  in  a  tone  which 
affirmed  precisely  the  reverse, — 

"  I  accuse  no  one,"  he  said. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  resumed  the  judge,  "  that  M.  de 
Thaller  has  himself  informed  me  of  this  circumstance. 
When  he  called  at  your  house,  he  was  ignorant,  as  yet, 
of  the  extent  of  the  embezzlements,  and  was  in  hopes 
of  being  able  to  hush  up  the  affair.  That's  why  he 
wished  his  cashier  to  start  for  Belgium.  This  system 
of  helping  criminals  to  escape  the  just  punishment  of 
their  crimes  is  to  be  bitterly  deplored ;  but  it  is  quite  the 
habit  of  your  financial  magnates,  who  prefer  sending 
some  poor  devil  of  an  employe  to  hang  himself  abroad, 
than  run  the  risk  of  compromising  their  credit  by  con- 
fessing that  they  have  been  robbed." 

Maxence  might  have  had  a  great  deal  to  say ;  but  M. 
de  Tregars  had  recommended  him  the  most  extreme 
reserve.  He  remained  silent. 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  resumed  the  judge,  "  the  re- 
fusal to  accept  the  money  so  generously  offered  does 
not  speak  in  favor  of  Vincent  Favoral.  He  was  well 
aware,  when  he  left,  that  it  would  require  a  great  deal 
of  money  to  reach  the  frontier,  escape  pursuit,  and  hide 
himself  abroad ;  and,  if  he  refused  the  fifteen  thousand 
francs,  it  must  have  been  because  he  was  well  provided 
for  already." 

Tears  of  shame  and  rage  started  from  Maxence's  eyes. 

"  I  am  certain,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  my  father 
went  off  without  a  sou." 


372  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  What  has  become  of  the  millions,  then  ?  "  he  asked 
coldly. 

Maxence  hesitated.  Why  not  mention  his  suspi- 
cions ?  He  dared  not. 

"  My  father  speculated  at  the  bourse,"  he  stammered. 

"  And  he  led  a  scandalous  conduct,  keeping  up,  away 
from  home,  a  style  of  living  which  must  have  absorbed 
immense  sums." 

"  We  knew  nothing  of  it,  sir ;  and  our  first  suspicions 
were  aroused  by  what  the  commissary  of  police  told  us." 

The  judge  insisted  no  more;  and  in  a  tone  which  in- 
dicated that  his  question  was  a  mere  matter  of  form, 
and  he  attached  but  little  importance  to  the  answer, — 

"  You  have  no  new.s  from  your  father  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  None  whatever." 

"  And  you  have  no  idea  where  he  has  gone  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  least." 

M.  d'Avranchel  had  already  resumed  his  seat  at  the 
table,  and  was  again  busy  with  his  papers. 

"  You  may  retire,"  he  said.  You  will  be  notified  if 
I  need  you." 

Maxence  felt  much  discouraged  when  he  joined  M. 
de  Tregars  at  the  entrance  of  the  gallery. 

"  The  judge  is  convinced  of  M.  de  Thaller's  entire 
innocence,"  he  said. 

But  as  soon  as  he  had  narrated,  with  a  fidelity  that 
did  honor  to  his  memory,  all  that  had  just  occurred, — 

"  Nothing  is  lost  yet,"  declared  M.  de  Tregars. 

And,  taking  from  his  pocket  the  bill  for  two  trunks, 
which  had  been  found  in  M.  Favoral's  portfolio, — 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  know  our  fate." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     373 

IV. 

M.  DE  TREGARS  and  Maxence  were  in  luck.  They 
had  a  good  driver  and  a  fair  horse ;  and  in  twenty  min- 
utes they  were  at  the  trunk  store.  As  soon  as  the  cab 
stopped, — 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  suppose  it 
has  to  be  done." 

And,  with  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  do  something  which  is  extremely  repugnant  to 
him,  he  jumped  out,  and,  followed  by  Maxence,  entered 
the  shop. 

"  It  was  a  modest  establishment ;  and  the  people  who 
kept  it,  husband  and  wife,  seeing  two  customers  coming 
in,  rushed  to  meet  them,  with  that  welcoming  smile 
which  blossoms  upon  the  lips  of  every  Parisian  shop- 
keeper. 

"  What  will  you  have,  gentlemen  ?  " 

And,  with  wonderful  volubility,  they  went  on  enu- 
merating every  article  which  they  had  for  sale  in  their 
shop, — from  the  "  indispensable-necessary,"  contain- 
ing seventy-seven  pieces  of  solid  silver,  and  costing  four 
thousand  francs,  down  to  the  humblest  carpet-bag  at 
thirty-nine  cents. 

But  Marius  de  Tregars  interrupted  them  as  soon  as  he 
could  get  an  opportunity,  and,  showing  them  their 
bill..— 

"  It  was  here,  wasn't  it,"  he  inquired,  "  that  the  two 
trunks  were  bought  which  are  charged  in  this  bill  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  simultaneously  both  husband 
and  wife. 

"  When  were  they  delivered  ?  " 

"  Our  porter  went  to  deliver  them,  less  than  two 
hours  after  they  were  bought." 


374  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"Where?" 

By  this  time  the  shopkeepers  were  beginning  to  ex- 
change uneasy  looks. 

"  Why  do  you  ask?  "  inquired  the  woman  in  a  tone 
which  indicated  that  she  had  the  settled  intention  not 
to  answer,  unless  for  good  and  valid  reason. 

To  obtain  the  simplest  information  is  not  always  as 
easy  as  might  be  supposed.  The  suspicion  of  the 
Parisian  tradesman  is  easily  aroused ;  and,  as  his  head 
is  stuffed  with  stories  of  spies  and  robbers,  as  soon 
as  he  is  questioned  he  becomes  as  dumb  as  an  oyster. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  had  foreseen  the  difficulty. 

"  I  beg  you  to  believe,  madame,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  my  questions  are  not  dictated  by  an  idle  curiosity. 
Here  are  the  facts.  A  relative  of  ours,  a  man  of  a  cer- 
tain age,  of  whom  we  are  very  fond,  and  whose  head 
is  a  little  weak,  left  his  home  some  forty-eight  hours 
since.  We  are  looking  for  him,  and  we  are  in  hopes,  if 
we  find  these  trunks,  to  find  him  at  the  same  time." 

With  furtive  glances,  the  husband  and  wife  were 
tacitly  consulting  each  other. 

"  The  fact  is,"  they  said,  "  we  wouldn't  like,  under 
any  consideration,  to  commit  an  indiscretion  which 
might  result  to  the  prejudice  of  a  customer." 

"  Fear  nothing,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  with  a  reassur- 
ing gesture.  '"  If  we  have  not  had  recourse  to  the  po- 
lice, it's  because,  you  know,  it  isn't  pleasant  to  have  the 
police  interfere  in  one's  affairs.  If  you  have  any  objec- 
tions to  answer  me,  however,  I  must,  of  course,  apply  to 
the  commissary." 

The  argument  proved  decisive. 

"  If  that's  the  case,"  replied  the  woman,  "  I  am  ready 
to  tell  all  I  know." 

"  Well,  then,  madame,  what  do  you  know?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  375 

"  These  two  trunks  were  bought  on  Friday  afternoon 
last,  by  a  man  of  a  certain  age,  tall,  very  thin,  with  a 
stern  countenance,  and  wearing  a  long  frock  coat." 

"  No  more  doubt,"  murmured  Maxence.  "  It  was 
he." 

"  And  now,"  the  woman  went  on,  "  that  you  have  just 
told  me  that  your  relative  was  a  little  weak  in  the  head, 
I  remember  that  this  gentleman  had  a  strange  sort  of 
way  about  him,  and  that  he  kept  walking  about  the 
store  as  if  he  had  fleas  on  his  legs.  And  awful  partic- 
ular he  was  too !  Nothing  was  handsome  enough  and 
strong  enough  for  him;  and  he  was  anxious  about  the 
safety-locks,  as  he  had,  he  said,  many  objects  of  value, 
papers,  and  securities,  to  put  away." 

"  And  where  did  he  tell  you  to  send  the  two  trunks  ?  " 

"  Rue  du  Cirque,  to  Mme. wait  a  minute,  I  have 

the  name  at  the  end  of  my  tongue." 

"  You  must  have  it  on  your  books,  too,"  remarked 
M.  de  Tregars. 

The  husband  was  already  looking  over  his  blotter. 

"April  26,  1872,"  he  said.  "26,  here  it  is:  'Two 
leather  trunks,  patent  safety-locks :  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle, 
49  Rue  du  Cirque.' '; 

Without  too  much  affectation,  M.  de  Tregars  had 
drawn  near  to  the  shopkeeper,  and  was  looking  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  What  is  that,"  he  asked,  "  written  there,  below  the 
address  ?  " 

"  That,  sir,  is  the  direction  left  by  the  customer 
'  Mark  on  each  end  of  the  trunks,  in  large  letters,  "  Rio 
de  Janeiro."  '  " 

Maxence  could  not  suppress  an  exclamation.  "  Oh !  " 

But  the  tradesman  mistook  him ;  and,  seizing  this 
magnificent  opportunity  to  display  his  knowledge, — 


376  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Rio  de  Janeiro  is  the  capital  of  Brazil,"  he  said  in 
a  tone  of  importance.  "  And  your  relative  evidently  in- 
tended to  go  there;  and,  if  he  has  not  changed  his 
mind,  I  doubt  whether  you  can  overtake  him ;  for  the 
Brazilian  steamer  was  to  have  sailed  yesterday  from 
Havre." 

Whatever  may  have  been  his  intentions,  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  remained  perfectly  calm. 

"  If  that's  the  case,"  he  said  to  the  shopkeepers,  "  I 
think  I  had  better  give  up  the  chase.  I  am  much  obliged 
to  you,  however,  for  your  information." 

But,  once  out  again, — 

"  Do  you  really  believe,"  inquired  Maxence,  "  that 
my  father  has  left  France  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head. 

"  I  will  give  you  my  opinion,"  he  uttered,  "  after 
I  have  investigated  matters  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque." 

They  drove  there  in  a  few  minutes ;  and,  the  cab  hav- 
ing stopped  at  the  entrance  of  the  street,  they  walked 
on  foot  in  front  of  No.  49.  It  was  a  small  cottage,  only 
one  story  in  height,  built  between  a  sanded  court-yard 
and  a  garden,  whose  tall  trees  showed  above  the  roof. 
At  the  windows  could  be  seen  curtains  of  light-colored 
silk, — a  sure  indication  of  the  presence  of  a  young  and 
pretty  woman. 

For  a  few  minutes  Marius  de  Tregars  remained  in 
observation ;  but,  as  nothing  stirred, — 

"  We  must  find  out  something,  somehow,"  he  ex- 
claimed impatiently. 

And  noticing  a  large  grocery  store  bearing  No.  62, 
he  directed  his  steps  towards  it,  still  accompanied  by 
Maxence. 

It  was  the  hour  of  the  day  when  customers  are  rare. 
Standing  in  the  centre  of  the  shop,  the  grocer,  a  big 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  377 

fat  man  with  an  air  of  importance,  was  overseeing  his 
men,  who  were  busy  putting  things  in  order. 

M.  de  Tregars  took  him  aside,  and  with  an  accent  of 
mystery, — 

"  I  am,"  he  said,  "  a  clerk  with  M.  Drayton,  the  jew- 
eller in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix ;  and  I  come  to  ask  you  one 
of  those  little  favors  which  tradespeople  owe  to  each 
other." 

A  frown  appeared  on  the  fat  man's  countenance. 
He  thought,  perhaps,  that  M.  Drayton's  clerks  were 
rather  too  stylish-looking;  or  else,  perhaps,  he  felt  ap- 
prehensive of  one  of  those  numerous  petty  swindles  of 
which  shopkeepers  are  constantly  the  victims. 

"  What  is  it?  "  said  he.    "  Speak !  " 

"  I  am  on  my  way,"  spoke  M.  de  Tregars,  "  to  deliver 
a  ring  which  a  lady  purchased  of  us  yesterday.  She  is 
not  a  regular  customer,  and  has  given  us  no  references. 
If  she  doesn't  pay,  shall  I  leave  the  ring  ?  My  employer 
told  me,  '  Consult  some  prominent  tradesman  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  follow  his  advice.' ': 

Prominent  tradesman !  Delicately  tickled  vanity  was 
dancing  in  the  grocer's  eyes. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  lady  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle." 

The  grocer  burst  out  laughing. 

"  In  that  case,  my  boy,"  he  said,  tapping  familiarly 
the  shoulder  of  the  so-called  clerk,  "  whether  she  pays 
or  not,  you  can  deliver  the  article." 

The  familiarity  was  not,  perhaps,  very  much  to  the 
taste  of  the  Marquis  de  Tregars.  No  matter. 

"  She  is  rich,  then,  that  lady  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Personally  no.  But  she  is  protected  by  an  old  fool, 
who  allows  her  all  her  fancies." 

"Indeed!" 


378  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  It  is  scandalous ;  and  you  cannot  form  an  idea  of 
the  amount  of  money  that  is  spent  in  that  house. 
Horses,  carriages,  servants,  dresses,  balls,  dinners,  card- 
playing  all  night,  a  perpetual  carnival :  it  must  be  ruin- 
bus  !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  never  winced. 

"  And  the  old  man  who  pays  ?  "  he  asked ;  "  do  you 
know  him  ?  " 

"  I  have  seen  him  pass, — a  tall,  lean,  old  fellow,  who 
doesn't  look  very  rich,  either.  But  excuse  me :  here  is  a 
customer  I  must  wait  upon." 

Having  walked  out  into  the  street, — 

"  We  must  separate  now,"  declared  M.  de  Tregars 
to  Maxence. 

"What!  You  wish  to"— 

"  Go  and  wait  for  me  in  that  cafe  yonder,  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  street.  I  must  see  that  Zelie  Cadelle  and 
speak  to  her." 

And  without  suffering  an  objection  on  the  part  of 
Maxence,  he  walked  resolutely  up  to  the  cottage-gate, 
and  rang  vigorously. 

At  the  sound  of  the  bell,  one  of  those  servants  stepped 
out  into  the  yard,  who  seem  manufactured  on 
purpose,  heaven  knows  where,  for  the  special  service  of 
young  ladies  who  keep  house, — a  tall  rascal  with  sallow 
complexion  and  straight  hair,  a  cynical  eye,  and  a  low, 
impudent  smile. 

"  What  do  you  wish,  sir  ?  "  he  inquired  through  the 
grating. 

"  That  you  should  open  the  door,  first,"  uttered  M. 
de  Tregars,  with  such  a  look  and  such  an  accent,  that 
the  other  obeyed  at  once. 

"  And  now,"  he  added,  "  go  and  announce  me  to 
Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  379 

"  Madame  is  out,"  replied  the  valet. 

And  noticing  that  M.  de  Tregars  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders,— 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  said,  "  she  has  gone  to  the  bois 
with  one  of  her  friends.  If  you  won't  believe  me,  ask 
my  comrades  there. ' 

And  he  pointed  out  two  other  servants  of  the  same 
pattern  as  himself,  who  were  sitting  at  a  table  in  the 
carriage-house,  playing  cards,  and  drinking. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  did  not  mean  to  be  imposed  upon. 
He  felt  certain  that  the  man  was  lying.  Instead,  there- 
fore, of  discussing, — 

"  I  want  y,ou  to  take  me  to  your  mistress,"  he  ordered, 
in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  objection ;  "  or  else  I'll  find 
my  way  to  her  alone." 

It  was  evident  that  he  would  do  just  as  he  said,  by 
force  if  needs  be.  The  valet  saw  this,  and,  after  hesitat- 
ing a  moment  longer, — 

"  Come  along,  then,"  he  said,  "  since  you  insist  so 
much.  We'll  talk  to  the  chambermaid." 

And,  having  led  M.  de  Tregars  into  the  vestibule,  he 
called  out,  "  Mam'selle  Amanda !  " 

A  woman  at  once  made  her  appearance  who  was  a 
worthy  mate  for  the  valet.  She  must  have  been  about 
forty,  and  the  most  alarming  duplicity  could  be  read 
upon  her  features,  deeply  pitted  by  the  small-pox.  She 
wore  a  pretentious  dress,  an  apron  like  a  stage-servant, 
and  a  cap  profusely  decorated  with  flowers  and  ribbons. 

"  Here  is  a  gentleman,"  said  the  valet,  "  who  insists 
upon  seeing  madame.  You  fix  it  with  him." 

Better  than  her  fellow  servant,  Mile.  Amanda  could 
judge  with  whom  she  had  to  deal.  A  single  glance  at 
this  obstinate  visitor  convinced  her  that  he  was  not  one 
who  can  be  easily  turned  off. 


$8o  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Putting  on,  therefore,  her  pleasantest  smile,  thus  dis- 
playing at  the  same  time  her  decayed  teeth, — 

"  The  fact  is  that  monsieur  will  very  much  disturb 
madame,"  she  observed. 

"  I  shall  excuse  myself." 

"  But  I'll  be  scolded." 

Instead  of  answering,  M.  de  Tregars  took  a  couple  of 
twenty- franc-notes  out  of  his  pocket,  and  slipped  them 
into  her  hand. 

"  Please  follow  me  to  the  parlor,  then,"  she  said  with 
a  heavy  sigh. 

M.  de  Tregars  did  so,  whilst  observing  everything 
around  him  with  the  attentive  perspicacity  of  a  deputy 
sheriff  preparing  to  make  out  an  inventory. 

Being  double,  the  house  was  much  more  spacious 
than  could  have  been  thought  from  the  street,  and  ar- 
ranged with  that  science  of  comfort  which  is  the  genius 
of  modern  architects. 

The  most  lavish  luxury  was  displayed  on  all  sides; 
not  that  solid,  quiet,  and  harmonious  luxury  which  is 
the  result  of  long  years  of  opulence,  but  the  coarse, 
loud,  and  superficial  luxury  of  the  parvenu,  who  is 
eager  to  enjoy  quick,  and  to  possess  all  that  he  has 
craved  from  others. 

The  vestibule  was  a  folly,  with  its  exotic  plants 
climbing  along  crystal  trellises,  and  its  Sevres  and 
China  jardinieres  filled  with  gigantic  azaleas.  And 
along  the  gilt  railing  of  the  stairs  marble  and  bronze 
statuary  was  intermingled  with  masses  of  growing  flow- 
ers. 

"  It  must  take  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year  to  keep 
up  this  conservatory  alone,"  thought  M.  de  Tregars. 

Meantime  the  old  chambermaid  opened  a  satinwood 
door  with  silver  lock. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  381 

"  That's  the  parlor,"  she  said.  "  Take  a  seat  whilst 
I  go  and  tell  madame." 

In  this  parlor  everything  had  been  combined  to  daz- 
zle. Furniture,  carpets,  hangings,  every  thing,  was 
rich,  too  rich,  furiously,  incontestably,  obviously  rich. 
The  chandelier  was  a  masterpiece,  the  clock  an  orig- 
inal and  unique  piece  of  work.  The  pictures  hanging 
upon  the  wall  were  all  signed  with  the  most  famous 
names. 

"  To  judge  of  the  rest  by  what  I  have  seen,"  thought 
M.  de  Tregars,  "  there  must  have  been  at  least  four  or 
five  hundred  thousand  francs  spent  on  this  house." 

And,  although  he  was  shocked  by  a  quantity  of  de- 
tails which  betrayed  the  most  absolute  lack  of  taste,  he 
could  hardly  persuade  himself  that  the  cashier  of  the 
Mutual  Credit  could  be  the  master  of  this  sumptuous 
dwelling ;  and  he  was  asking  himself  whether  he  had  not 
followed  the  wrong  scent,  when  a  circumstance  came  to 
put  an  end  to  all  his  doubts. 

Upon  the  mantlepiece,  in  a  small  velvet  frame,  was 
Vincent  Favoral's  portrait. 

M.  de  Tregars  had  been  seated  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  was  collecting  his  somewhat  scattered  thoughts, 
when  a  slight  grating  sound,  and  a  rustling  noise,  made 
him  turn  around. 

Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle  was  coming  in. 

She  was  a  woman  of  some  twenty-five  or  six,  rather 
tall,  lithe,  and  well  made.  Her  face  was  pale  and  worn ; 
and  her  heavy  dark  hair  was  scattered  over  her  neck 
and  shoulders.  She  looked  at  once  sarcastic  and  good- 
natured,  impudent  and  naive,  with  her  sparkling  eyes, 
her  turned-up  nose,  and  wide  mouth  furnished  with 
teeth,  sound  and  white,  like  those  of  a  young  dog.  She 
had  wasted  no  time  upon  her  dress;  for  she  wore  a 


382  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

plain  blue  cashmere  wrapper,  fastened  at  the  waist  with 
a  sort  of  silk  scarf  of  similar  color. 

From  the  very  threshold, — 

"  Dear  me !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  how  very  singular !  " 

M.  de  Tregars  stepped  forward. 

"  What  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  nothing !  "  she  replied, — "  nothing  at  all !  " 

And  without  ceasing  to  look  at  him  with  a  wondering 
eye,  but  suddenly  changing  her  tone  of  voice, — 

"  And  so,  sir,"  she  said,  "  my  servants  have  been 
unable  to  keep  you  from  forcing  yourself  into  my 
house ! " 

"  I  hope,  madame,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  with  a  polite 
bow,  "  that  you  will  excuse  my  persistence.  I  come  for 
a  matter  which  can  suffer  no  delay." 

She  was  still  looking  at  him  obstinately. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  My  name  will  not  afford  you  any  information.  I 
am  the  Marquis  de  Tregars." 

"  Tregars !  "  she  repeated,  looking  up  at  the  ceiling, 
as  if  in  search  of  an  inspiration.  "  Tregars !  Never 
heard  of  it !  " 

And  throwing  herself  into  an  arm  chair, — 

"  Well,  sir,  what  do  you  wish  with  me,  then  ? 
Speak!" 

He  had  taken  a  seat  near  her,  and  kept  his  eyes  riv- 
eted upon  hers. 

"  I  have  come,  madame,"  he  replied,  "  to  ask  you  to 
put  me  in  the  way  to  see  and  speak  to  the  man  whose 
photograph  is  there  on  the  mantlepiece." 

He  expected  to  take  her  by  surprise,  and  that  by  a 
shudder,  a  cry,  a  gesture,  she  might  betray  her  secret, 
Not  at  all. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  383 

"  Are  you,  then,  one  of  M.  Vincent's  friends  ? "  she 
asked  quietly. 

M.  de  Tregars  understood,  and  this  was  subsequently 
confirmed,  that  it  was  under  his  Christian  name  of  Vin- 
cent alone,  that  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  was 
known  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  friend  of  his,"  he  replied ;  "  and  if  I 
could  see  him,  I  could  probably  render  him  an  import- 
ant service." 

"  Well,  you  are  too  late." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  M.  Vincent  put  off  more  than  twenty-four 
hours  since  ?  " 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?" 

"  As  sure  as  a  person  can  be  who  went  to  the  rail- 
way station  yesterday  with  him  and  all  his  baggage." 

"  You  saw  him  leave?  " 

"  As  I  see  you." 

"  Where  was  he  going  ?  " 

"  To  Havre,  to  take  the  steamer  for  Brazil,  which 
was  to  sail  on  the  same  day;  so  that,  by  this  time,  he 
must  be  awfully  seasick." 

"  And  you  really  think  that  it  was  his  intention  to  go 
to  Brazil?" 

"  He  said  so.  It  was  written  on  his  thirty-six  trunks 
in  letters  half  a  foot  high.  Besides,  he  showed  me  his 
ticket." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  what  could  have  induced  him  to 
expatriate  himself  thus,  at  his  age?  " 

"  He  told  me  he  had  spent  all  his  money,  and  also 
some  of  other  people's ;  that  he  was  afraid  of  being  ar- 
rested ;  and  that  he  was  going  yonder  to  be  quiet,  and 
try  to  make  another  fortune." 


384  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Was  Mme.  Zelie  speaking  in  good  faith  ?  To  ask  the 
question  would  have  been  rather  naive;  but  an  effort 
might  be  made  to  find  out. 

Carefully  concealing  his  own  impressions,  and  the 
importance  he  attached  to  this  conversation, — 

"  I  pity  you  sincerely,  madame,"  resumed  M.  de 
Tregars ;  "  for  you  must  be  sorely  grieved  by  this  sud- 
den departure." 

"  Me !  "  she  said  in  a  voice  that  came  from  the  heart. 
"  I  don't  care  a  straw." 

Marquis  de  Tregars  knew  well  enough  the  ladies  of 
the  class  to  which  he  supposed  that  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle 
must  belong,  not  to  be  surprised  at  this  frank  declara- 
tion. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  you  are  indebted  to  him  for 
the  princely  magnificence  that  surrounds  you  here." 

"  Of  course." 

"  He  being  gone,  as  you  say,  will  you  be  able  to 
keep  up  your  style  of  living  ?  " 

Half  raising  herself  from  her  seat, — 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  of  doing  so,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Never  in  the  whole  world  have  I  had 
such  a  stupid  time  as  for  the  last  five  months  that  I 
have  spent  in  this  gilded  cage.  What  a  bore,  my  be- 
loved brethren !  I  am  yawning  still  at  the  mere  thought 
of  the  number  of  times  I  have  yawned  in  it." 

M.  de  Tregars'  gesture  of  surprise  was  the  more  nat- 
ural, that  his  surprise  was  immense. 

"  You  are  tired  being  here?  "  he  said. 

"  To  death." 

"  And  you  have  only  been  here  five  months  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  yes !  and  by  the  merest  chance,  too,  you'll 
see.  One  day  at  the  beginning  of  last  December,  I  was 
coming  from — but  no  matter  where  I  was  coming:  from. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  385 

At  any  rate,  I  hadn't  a  cent  in  my  pocket,  and  nothing 
but  an  old  calico  dress  on  my  back;  and  I  was  going 
along,  not  in  the  best  of  humor,  as  you  may  imagine, 
when  I  feel  that  some  one  is  following  me.  Without 
looking  around,  and  from  the  corner  of  my  eye,  I  look 
over  my  shoulder,  and  I  see  a  respectable-looking  old 
gentleman,  wearing  a  long  frock-coat." 

"M.Vincent?" 

"  In  his  own  natural  person,  and  who  was  walking, 
walking.  I  quietly  begin  to  walk  slower ;  and,  as  soon 
as  we  come  to  a  place  where  there  was  hardly  any  one, 
he  comes  up  alongside  of  me." 

Something  comical  must  have  happened  at  this  mo- 
ment, which  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle  said  nothing  about; 
for  she  was  laughing  most  heartily, — a  frank  and  sono- 
rous laughter. 

"  Then,"  she  resumed,  "  he  begins  at  once  to  explain 
that  I  remind  him  of  a  person  whom  he  loved  tenderly, 
and  whom  he  has  just  had  the  misfortune  to  lose, 
adding,  that  he  would  deem  himself  the  happiest  of 
men  if  I  would  allow  him  to  take  care  of  me,  and  in- 
sure me  a  brilliant  position." 

"  You  see !  That  rascally  Vincent !  "  said  M.  de 
Tregars,  just  to  be  saying  something. 

Mme.  Zelie  shook  her  head. 

"  You  know  him,"  she  resumed.  "  He  is  not  young ; 
he  is  not  handsome;  he  is  not  funny.  I  did  not  fancy 
him  one  bit;  and,  if  I  had  only  known  where  to  find 
shelter  for  the  night,  I'd  soon  have  sent  him  to  the  old 
Nick, — him  and  his  brilliant  position.  But,  not  having 
enough  money  to  buy  myself  a  penny-loaf,  it  wasn't 
the  time  to  put  on  any  airs.  So  I  tell  him  that  I  accept. 
He  goes  for  a  cab;  we  get  into  it;  and  he  brings 
me  right  straight  here." 


386  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Positively  M.  de  Tregars  required  his  entire  self- 
control  to  conceal  the  intensity  of  his  curiosity. 

"  Was  this  house,,  then,  already  as  it  is  now  ?  "  he 
interrogated. 

"  Precisely,  except  that  there  were  no  servants  in  it, 
except  the  chambermaid  Amanda,  who  is  M.  Favoral's 
confidante.  All  the  others,  had  been  dismissed ;  and  it 
was  a  hostler  from  a  stable  near  by  who  came  to  take 
care  of  the  horses." 

"And  what  then?" 

"  Then  you  may  imagine  what  I  looked  like  in  the 
midst  of  all  this  magnificence,  with  my  old  shoes  and 
my  fourpenny  skirt.  Something  like  a  grease-spot  on 
a  satin  dress.  M.  Vincent  seemed  delighted,  neverthe- 
less. He  had  sent  Amanda  out  to  get  me  some  under- 
clothing and  a  ready-made  wrapper;  and,  whilst  wait- 
ing, he  took  me  all  through  the  house,  from  the  cellar 
to  the  garret,  saying  that  everything  was  at  my  com- 
mand, and  that  the  next  day  I  would  have  a  battalion 
of  servants  to  wait  on  me." 

It  was  evidently  with  perfect  frankness  that  she  was 
speaking,  and  with  the  pleasure  one  feels  in  telling  an 
extraordinary  adventure.  But  suddenly  she  stopped 
short,  as  if  discovering  that  she  was  forgetting  herself, 
and  going  farther  than  was  proper. 

And  it  was  only  after  a  moment  of  reflection  that  she 
went  on, — 

"  It  was  like  fairyland  to  me.  I  had  never  tasted 
the  opulence  of  the  great,  you  see,  and  I  had  never  had 
any  money  except  that  which  I  earned.  So,  during 
the  first  days,  I  did  nothing  but  run  up  and  down  stairs, 
admiring  everything,  feeling  everything  with  my  own 
hands,  and  looking  at  myself  in  the  glass  to  make  sure 
that  I  was  not  dreaming.  I  rang  the  bell  just  to  make 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  387 

the  servants  come  up ;  I  spent  hours  trying  dresses ;  then 
I'd  have  the  horses  put  to  the  carriage,  and  either  ride  to 
the  bo  is,  or  go  out  shopping.  M.  Vincent  gave  me  as 
much  money  as  I  wanted;  and  it  seemed  as  though  I 
never  spent  enough.  I  shout,  I  was  like  a  mad  woman." 

A  cloud  appeared  upon  Mme.  Zelie's  countenance, 
and,  changing  suddenly  her  tone  and  her  manner, — 

"  Unfortunately,"  she  went  on,  "  one  gets  tired  of 
every  thing.  At  the  end  of  two  weeks  I  knew  the  house 
from  top  to  bottom,  and  after  a  month  I  was  sick  of  the 
whole  thing;  so  that  one  night  I  began  dressing. 
'  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ? '  Amanda  asked  me. 
'  Why,  to  Mabille,  to  dance  a  quadrille,  or  two.' — '  Im- 
possible!'— 'Why?' — 'Because  M.  Vincent  does  not 
wish  you  to  go  out  at  night.' — '  We'll  see  about  that ! ' 
The  next  day,  I  tell  all  this  to  M.  Vincent ;  and  he  says 
that  Amanda  is  right ;  that  it  is  not  proper  for  a  woman 
in  my  position  to  frequent  balls ;  and  that,  if  I  want  to 
go  out  at  night,  I  can  stay.  Get  out !  I  tell  you  what, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  fine  carriage,  and  all  that,  I 
would  have  cleared  out  that  minute.  Any  way,  I  be- 
came disgusted  from  that  moment,  and  have  been  more 
and  more  ever  since ;  and,  if  M.  Vincent  had  not  him- 
self left,  I  certainly  would." 

"  To  go  where?  " 

"  Anywhere.  Look  here,  now !  do  you  suppose  I 
need  a  man  to  support  me !  No,  thank  Heaven !  Little 
Zelie,  here  present,  has  only  to  apply  to  any  dressmaker, 
and  she'll  be  glad  to  give  her  four  francs  a  day  to  run 
the  machine.  And  she'll  be  free,  at  least ;  and  she  can 
laugh  and  dance  as  much  as  she  likes." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  made  a  mistake :  he  had  just  dis- 
covered it. 

Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle  was  certainly  not  particularly  vir- 


388  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

tuous;  but  she  was  far  from  being  the  woman  he  ex- 
pected to  meet. 

"  At  any  rate,"  he  said,  "  you  did  well  to  wait  pa- 
tiently." 

"  I  do  not  regret  it." 

"If  you  can  keep  this  house  " — 

She  interrupted  him  with  a  great  burst  of  laughter. 

"  This  house !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Why,  it  was  sold  ' 
long  ago,  with  every  thing  in  it, — furniture,  horses,  car- 
riages, every  thing  except  me.  A  young  gentleman,  very 
well  dressed,  bought  it  for  a  tall  girl,  who  looks  like  a. 
goose,  and  has  far  over  a  thousand  francs  of  red  hair  on 
her  head." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Sure  as  I  live,  having  seen  with  my  own  eyes  the 
young  swell  and  his  red-headed  friend  counting  heaps 
of  bank-notes  to  M.  Vincent.  They  are  to  move  in  day 
after  to-morrow ;  and  they  have  invited  me  to  the  house- 
warming.  But  no  more  of  it  for  me,  I  thank  you !  I 
am  sick  and  tired  of  all  these  people.  And  the  proof  of 
it  is,  I  am  busy  packing  my  things ;  and  lots  of  them  I 
have  too, — dresses,  underclothes,  jewelry.  He  was  a 
good-natured  fellow,  old  Vincent  was,  anyhow.  He 
gave  me  money  enough  to  buy  some  furniture.  I  have 
hired  a  small  apartment ;  and  I  am  going  to  set  up  dress- 
making on  my  own  hook.  And  won't  we  laugh  then ! 
and  won't  we  have  some  fun  to  make  up  for  lost  time ! 
Come,  my  children,  take  your  places  for  a  quadrille. 
Forward  two !  " 

And,  bouncing  out  of  her  chair,  she  began  sketching 
out  one  of  those  bold  cancan  steps  which  astound  the 
policemen  on  duty  in  the  ball-rooms. 

"  Bravo !  "  said  M.  de  Tregars,  forcing  himself  to 
smile— "bravo!" 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  389 

He  saw  clearly  now  what  sort  of  woman  was  Mme. 
Zelie  Cadelle;  how  he  should  speak  to  her,  and  what 
cords  he  might  yet  cause  to  vibrate  within  her.  He  rec- 
ognized the  true  daughter  of  Paris,  wayward  and  ner- 
vous, who  in  the  midst  of  her  disorders  preserves  an  in- 
stinctive pride;  who  places  her  independence  far  above 
all  the  money  in  the  world ;  who  gives,  rather  than  sells, 
herself ;  who  knows  no  law  but  her  caprice,  no  morality 
but  the  policeman,  no  religion  but  pleasure. 

As  soon  as  she  had  returned  to  her  seat, — 

"  There  you  are  dancing  gayly,"  he  said,  "  and  poor 
Vincent  is  doubtless  groaning  at  this  moment  over  his 
separation  from  you." 

"  Ah !  I'd  pity  him  if  I  had  time,"  she  said. 

"  He  was  fond  of  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  speak  of  it." 

"  If  he  had  not  been  fond  of  you,  he  would  not  have 
put  you  here." 

Mme.  Zelie  made  a  little  face  of  equivocal  meaning. 

"  What  proof  is  that  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  He  would  not  have  spent  so  much  money  for  you." 

"  For  me !  "  she  interrupted, — "  for  me !  What  have 
I  cost  him  of  any  consequence?  Is  it  for  me  that  he 
bought,  furnished,  and  fitted  out  this  house?  No,  no! 
He  had  the  cage;  and  he  put  in  the  bird, — the  first  he 
happened  to  find.  He  brought  me  here  as  he  might  have 
brought  any  other  woman,  young  or  old,  pretty  or  ugly, 
blonde  or  brunette.  As  to  what  I  spent  here,  it  was  a 
mere  bagatelle  compared  with  what  the  other  did, — the 
one  before  me.  Amanda  kept  telling  me  all  the  time  I 
was  a  fool.  You  may  believe  me,  then,  when  I  tell  you 
that  M.  Vincent  will  not  wet  many  handkerchiefs  with 
the  tears  he'll  shed  over  me." 

"  But  do  you  know  what  became  of  the  one  before 


390  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

you,  as  you  call  her, — whether  she  is  alive  or  dead,  and 
owing  to  what  circumstances  the  cage  became  empty  ?  " 

But,  instead  of  answering,  Mme.  Zelie  was  fixing 
upon  Marius  de  Tregars  a  suspicious  glance.  And,  after 
a  moment  only, — 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me  that  ?  "  she  said. 

"  I  would  like  to  know." 

She  did  not  permit  him  to  proceed.  Rising  from  her 
seat,  and  stepping  briskly  up  to  him, — 

"  Do  you  belong  to  the  police,  by  chance  ?  "  she  asked 
in  a  tone  of  mistrust. 

If  she  was  anxious,  it  was  evidently  because  she  had 
motives  of  anxiety  which  she  had  concealed.  If,  two 
or  three  times  she  had  interrupted  herself,  it  was  be- 
cause, manifestly,  she  had  a  secret  to  keep.  If  the  idea 
of  police  had  come  into  her  mind,  it  is  because,  very 
probably,  they  had  recommended  her  to  be  on  her  guard. 

M.  de  Tregars  understood  all  this,  and,  also,  that  he 
had  tried  to  go  too  fast. 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  secret  police-agent  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  was  examining  him  with  all  her  power  of  penetra- 
tion. 

"  Not  at  all,  I  confess/'  she  replied.  "  But,  if  you  are 
not  one,  how  is  it  that  you  come  to  my  house,  without 
knowing  me  from  this  side  of  sole  leather,  to  ask  me  a 
whole  lot  of  questions,  which  I  am  fool  enough  to  an- 
swer?" 

"  I  told  you  I  was  a  friend  of  M.  Favoral." 

"  Who's  that  Favoral  ?  " 

"  That's  M.  Vincent's  real  name,  madame." 

She  opened  her  eyes  wide. 

"  You  must  be  mistaken.  I  never  heard  him  called 
any  thing  but  Vincent." 

"  It  is  because  he  had  especial  motives  for  concealing 


his  personality.  The  money  he  spent  here  did  not  belong 
to  him:  he  took  it,  he  stole  it,  from  the  Mutual  Credit 
Company  where  he  was  cashier,  and  where  he  left  a 
deficit  of  twelve  millions." 

Mme.  Zelie  stepped  back  as  though  she  had  trodden 
on  a  snake. 

"  It's  impossible !  "  she  cried. 

"  It  is  the  exact  truth.  Haven't  you  seen  in  the  pa- 
pers the  case  of  Vincent  Favoral,  cashier  of  the  Mutual 
Credit?" 

And,  taking  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  he  handed  it  to 
the  young  woman,  saying,  "  Read." 

But  she  pushed  it  back,  not  without  a  slight  blush. 

"  Oh,  I  believe  you !  "  she  said. 

The  fact  is,  and  Marius  understood  it,  she  did  not 
read  very  fluently. 

"  The  worst  of  M.  Vincent  Favoral's  conduct,"  he 
resumed,  "  is,  that,  while  he  was  throwing  away  money 
here  by  the  handful,  he  subjected  his  family  to  the  most 
cruel  privations." 

"Oh!" 

"  He  refused  the  necessaries  of  life  to  his  wife,  the 
best  and  the  worthiest  of  women ;  he  never  gave  a  cent 
to  his  son;  and  he  deprived  his  daughter  of  every 
thing." 

"  Ah,  if  I  could  have  suspected  such  a  thing !  "  mur- 
mured Mme.  Zelie. 

"  Finally,  and  to  cap  the  climax,  he  has  gone,  leaving 
his  wife  and  children  literally  without  bread." 

Transported  with  indignation, — 

"  Why,  that  man  must  have  been  a  horrible  old  scoun- 
drel "  exclaimed  the  young  woman. 

This  is  just  the  point  to  which  M.  de  Tregars  wished 
to  bring  her. 


392  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  now,"  he  resumed,  "  you  must  understand  the 
enormous  interest  we  have  in  knowing  what  has  become 
of  him." 

"  I  have  already  told  you." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  risen,  in  his  turn.  Taking  Mme. 
Zelie's  hands,  and  fixing  upon  her  one  of  those  acute 
looks,  which  search  for  the  truth  down  to  the  innermost 
recesses  of  the  conscience, — 

"  Come,  my  dear  child,"  he  began  in  a  penetrating 
voice,  "  you  are  a  worthy  and  honest  girl.  Will  you 
leave  in  the  most  frightful  despair  a  family  who  appeal 
to  your  heart?  Be  sure  that  no  harm  will  ever  happen 
through  us  to  Vincent  Favoral." 

She  raised  her  hand,  as  they  do  to  take  an  oath  in  a 
court  of  justice,  and,  in  a  solemn  tone, — 

"  I  swear,"  she  uttered,  "  that  I  went  to  the  station 
with  M.  Vincent ;  that  he  assured  me  that  he  was  going 
to  Brazil ;  that  he  had  his  passage-ticket ;  and  that  all  his 
baggage  was  marked,  '  Rio  de  Janeiro.'  " 

The  disappointment  was  great:  and  M.  de  Tregars 
manifested  it  by  a  gesture. 

"  At  least,"  he  insisted,  "  tell  me  who  the  woman  was 
whose  place  you  took  here." 

But  already  had  the  young  woman  returned  to  her 
feeling  of  mistrust. 

"  How  in  the  world  do  you  expect  me  to  know  ?  "  she 
replied.  "  Go  and  ask  Amanda.  I  have  no  accounts  to 
give  you.  Besides,  I  have  to  go  and  finish  packing  my 
trunks.  So  good-by,  and  enjoy  yourself." 

And  she  went  out  so  quick,  that  she  caught  Amanda, 
the  chambermaid,  kneeling  behind  the  door. 

"  So  that  woman  was  listening,"  thought  M.  de  Tre- 
gars, anxious  and  dissatisfied. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  393 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  he  begged  Mme.  Zelie  to  re- 
turn, and  to  hear  a  single  word  more.  She  disappeared ; 
and  he  had  to  resign  himself  to  leave  the  house  without 
learning  any  thing  more  for  the  present. 

He  had  remained  there  very  long ;  and  he  was  wonder- 
ing, as  he  walked  out,  whether  Maxence  had  not  got 
tired  waiting  for  him  in  the  little  cafe  where  he  had  sent 
him. 

But  Maxence  had  remained  faithfully  at  his  post.  And 
when  Marius  de  Tregars  came  to  sit  by  him,  whilst  ex- 
claiming, "  Here  you  are  at  last !  "  he  called  his  attention 
at  the  same  time  with  a  gesture,  and  a  wink  from  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  to  two  men  sitting  at  the  adjoining  ta- 
ble before  a  bowl  of  punch. 

Certain,  now,  that  M.  de  Tregars  would  remain  on 
the  lookout,  Maxence  was  knocking  on  the  table  with 
his  fist,  to  call  the  waiter,  who  was  busy  playing  billiards 
with  a  customer. 

And  when  he  came  at  last,  justly  annoyed  at  being 
disturbed, — 

"  Give  us  two  mugs  of  beer,"  Maxence  ordered,  '*  and 
bring  us  a  pack  of  cards." 

M.  de  Tregars  understood  very  well  that  something 
extraordinary  had  happened ;  but,  unable  to  guess  what, 
he  leaned  over  towards  his  companion. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  We  must  hear  what  these  two  men  are  saying ;  and 
we'll  play  a  game  of  piquet  for  a  subterfuge." 

The  waiter  returned,  bringing  two  glasses  of  a  muddy 
liquid,  a  piece  of  cloth,  the  color  of  which  was  concealed 
under  a  layer  of  dirt,  and  a  pack  of  cards  horribly  soft 
and  greasy. 

"  My  deal,"  said  Maxence. 


394  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  he  began  shuffling,  and  giving  the  cards,  whilst 
M.  de  Tregars  was  examining  the  punch-drinkers  at  the 
next  table. 

In  one  of  the  two,  a  man  still  young,  wearing  a  striped 
vest  with  alpaca  sleeves,  he  thought  he  recognized  one 
of  the  rascally-looking  fellows  he  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  in  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle's  carriage-house. 

The  other,  an  old  man,  whose  inflamed  complexion 
and  blossoming  nose  betrayed  old  habits  of  drunken- 
ness, looked  very  much  like  a  coachman  out  of  place. 
Baseness  and  duplicity  bloomed  upon  his  countenance; 
and  the  brightness  of  his  small  eyes  rendered  still  more 
alarming  the  slyly  obsequious  smile  that  was  stereotyped 
upon  his  thin  and  pale  lips. 

They  were  so  completely  absorbed  in  their  conversa- 
tion, that  they  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  what  was 
going  on  around  them. 

"  Then,"  the  old  one  was  saying,  "  it's  all  over." 

"  Entirely.  The  house  is  sold." 

"And  the  boss?" 

"  Gone  to  America." 

"  What !     Suddenly,  that  way  ?  " 

"  No.  We  supposed  he  was  going  on  some  journey, 
because,  every  day  since  the  beginning  of  the  week,  they 
were  bringing  in  trunks  and  boxes ;  but  no  one  knew  ex- 
actly when  he  would  go.  Now,  in  the  night  of  Saturday 
to  Sunday,  he  drops  in  the  house  like  a  bombshell,  wakes 
up  everybody,  and  says  he  must  leave  immediately.  At 
once  we  harness  up,  we  load  the  baggage  up,  we  drive 
him  to  the  Western  Railway  Station,  and  good-by,  Vin- 
cent!" 

"  And  the  young  lady  ?  " 

"  She's  got  to  get  out  in  the  next  twenty- four  hours ; 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  395 

but  she  don't  seem  to  mind  it  one  bit.  The  fact  is  we  are 
the  ones  who  grieve  the  most,  after  all." 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"  It  is  so.  She  was  a  good  girl ;  and  we  won't  soon 
find  one  like  her." 

The  old  man  seemed  distressed. 

"  Bad  luck !  "  he  growled.  "  I  would  have  liked  that 
house  myself." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  you  would !  " 

"  And  there  is  no  way  to  get  in  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell.  It  will  be  well  to  see  the  others,  those  who 
have  bought.  But  I  mistrust  them :  they  look  too  stupid 
not  to  be  mean." 

Listening  intently  to  the  conversation  of  these  two 
men,  it  was  mechanically  and  at  random  that  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  and  Maxence  threw  their  cards  on  the  table,  and 
uttered  the  common  terms  of  the  game  of  piquet, — 

"  Five  cards !  Tierce,  major !   Three  aces." 

Meantime  the  old  man  was  going  on, — 

"  Who  knows  but  what  M.  Vincent  may  come  back?  " 

"  No  danger  of  that !  " 

"Why?" 

The  other  looked  carefully  around,  and,  seeing  only 
two  players  absorbed  in  their  game, — 

"  Because,"  he  replied,  "  M.  Vincent  is  completely 
ruined,  it  seems.  He  spent  all  his  money,  and  a  good 
deal  of  other  people's  money  besides.  Amanda,  the 
chambermaid,  told  me;  and  I  guess  she  knows." 

"  You  thought  he  was  so  rich !  " 

"  He  was.  But  no  matter  how  big  a  bag  is:  if  you 
keep  taking  out  of  it,  you  must  get  to  the  bottom." 

"  Then  he  spent  a  great  deal  ?  " 

"  It's  incredible !   I  have  been  in  extravagant  houses ; 


396  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

but  nowhere  have  I  ever  seen  money  fly  as  it  has  during 
the  five  months  that  I  have  been  in  that  house.  A  regu- 
lar pillage !  Everybody  helped  themselves ;  and  what  was 
not  in  the  house,  they  could  get  from  the  tradespeople, 
have  it  charged  on  the  bill ;  and  it  was  all  paid  without  a 
word." 

"  Then,  yes,  indeed,  the  money  must  have  gone  pretty 
lively,"  said  the  old  one  in  a  convinced  tone. 

"  Well,"  replied  the  other,  "  that  was  nothing  yet. 
Amanda  the  chambermaid,  who  has  been  in  the  house 
fifteen  years,  told  us  some  stories  that  would  make  you 
jump.  She  was  not  much  for  spending,  Zelie;  but  some 
of  the  others,  it  seems  " — 

It  required  the  greatest  effort  on  the  part  of  Max- 
ence  and  M.  de  Tregars  not  to  play,  but  only  to  pre- 
tend to  play,  and  to  continue  to  count  imaginary  points, 
— "  One,  two,  three,  four." 

Fortunately  the  coachman  with  the  red  nose  seemed 
much  interested. 

"What  others?  "he  asked. 

"  That  I  don't  know  any  thing  about,"  replied  the 
younger  valet.  "  But  you  may  imagine  that  there  must 
have  been  more  than  one  in  that  little  house  during  the 
many  years  that  M.  Vincent  owned  it, — a  man  who 
hadn't  his  equal  for  women,  and  who  was  worth  mil- 
lions." 

"  And  what  was  his  business  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  that,  either." 

"  What !  there  were  ten  of  you  in  the  house,  and  you 
didn't  know  the  profession  of  the  man  who  paid  you 
all?" 

"  We  were  all  new." 

"  The  chambermaid,  Amanda,  must  have  known." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  397 

"  When  she  was  asked,  she  said  that  he  was  a  mer- 
chant. One  thing  is  sure,  he  was  a  queer  old  chap." 

So  interested  was  the  old  coachman,  that,  seeing  the 
punch-bowl  empty,  he  called  for  another.  His  comrade 
could  not  fail  to  show  his  appreciation  of  such  polite- 
ness. 

"  Ah,  yes !  "  he  went  on,  "  old  Vincent  was  an  ec- 
centric fellow ;  and  never,  to  see  him,  could  you  have 
suspected  that  he  cut  up  such  capers,  and  that  he  threw 
money  away  by  the  handful." 

"  Indeed !  " 

"  Imagine  a  man  about  fifty  years  old,  stiff  as  a  post, 
with  a  face  about  as  pleasant  as  a  prison-gate.  That's 
the  boss!  Summer  and  winter,  he  wore  laced  shoes, 
blue  stockings,  gray  pantaloons  that  were  too  short,  a 
cotton  necktie,  and  a  frock-coat  that  came  down 
to  his  ankles.  In  the  street,  you  would  have  taken 
him  for  a  hosier  who  had  retired  before  his  fortune  was 
made." 

"  You  don't  say  so !  " 

"  No,  never  have  I  seen  a  man  look  so  much  like  an 
old  miser.  You  think,  perhaps,  that  he  came  in  a  car- 
riage. Not  a  bit  of  it!  He  came  in  the  omnibus,  my 
boy,  and  outside  too,  for  three  sous ;  and  when  it  rained 
he  opened  his  umbrella.  But  the  moment  he  had  crossed 
the  threshold  of  the  house,  presto,  pass !  complete  change 
of  scene.  The  miser  became  pacha.  He  took  off  his 
old  duds,  put  on  a  blue  velvet  robe ;  and  then  there  was 
nothing  handsome  enough,  nothing  good  enough,  noth- 
ing expensive  enough  for  him.  And,  when  he  had  acted 
the  my  lord  to  his  heart's  content,  he  put  on  his  old  traps 
again,  resumed  his  prison-gate  face,  climbed  up  on  top 
of  the  omnibus,  and  went  off  as  he  came." 


398  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  you  were  not  surprised,  all  of  you,  at  such  a 
life?" 

"  Very  much  so." 

"  And  you  did  not  think  that  these  singular  whims 
must  conceal  something?  " 

"Oh,  but  we  did!" 

"  And  you  didn't  try  to  find  out  what  that  something 
was?" 

"How  could  we?" 

"  Was  it  very  difficult  to  follow  your  boss,  and  ascer- 
tain where  he  went,  after  leaving  the  house  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not ;  but  what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,"  he  replied,  "  you  would  have  found  out  his 
secret  in  the  end ;  and  then  you  would  have  gone  to  him 
and  told  him, '  Give  me  so  much,  or  I  peach.'  " 


V. 

THIS  story  of  M.  Vincent,  as  told  by  these  two  honest 
companions,  was  something  like  the  vulgar  legend  of 
other  people's  money,  so  eagerly  craved,  and  so  madly 
dissipated.  Easily-gotten  wealth  is  easily  gotten  rid  of. 
Stolen  money  has  fatal  tendencies,  and  turns  irresistibly 
to  gambling,  horse- jockeys,  fast  women,  all  the  ruinous 
fancies,  all  the  unwholesome  gratifications. 

They  are  rare  indeed,  among  the  daring  cut-throats 
of  speculation,  those  to  whom  their  ill-gotten  gain 
proves  of  real  service, — so  rare,  that  they  are  pointed 
out,  and  are  as  easily  numbered  as  the  girls  who  leap 
some  night  from  the  street  to  a  ten-thousand-franc 
apartment,  and  manage  to  remain  there. 

Seized  with  the  intoxication  of  sudden  wealth,  they 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  399 

lose  all  measure  and  all  prudence.  Whether  they  believe 
their  luck  inexhaustible,  or  fear  a  sudden  turn  of  for- 
tune, they  make  haste  to  enjoy  themselves,  and  they  fill 
the  noted  restaurants,  the  leading  cafes,  the  theatres,  the 
clubs,  the  race-courses,  with  their  impudent  personality, 
the  clash  of  their  voice,  the  extravagance  of  their  mis- 
tresses, the  noise  of  their  expenses,  and  the  absurdity  of 
their  vanity.  And  they  go  on  and  on,  lavishing  other 
people's  money,  until  the  fatal  hour  of  one  of  those  dis- 
astrous liquidations  which  terrify  the  courts  and  the  ex- 
change, and  cause  pallid  faces  and  a  gnashing  of  teeth 
in  the  "  street,"  until  the  moment  when  they  have  the 
choice  between  a  pistol-shot,  which  they  never  choose, 
the  criminal  court,  which  they  do  their  best  to  avoid, 
and  a  trip  abroad. 

What  becomes  of  them  afterwards?  To  what  gut- 
ters do  they  tumble  from  fall  to  fall?  Does  any  one 
know  what  becomes  of  the  women  who  disappear  sud- 
denly after  two  or  three  years  of  follies  and  of  splen- 
dors? 

But  it  happens  sometimes,  as  you  step  out  of  a  car- 
riage in  front  of  some  theatre,  that  you  wonder  where 
you  have  already  seen  the  face  of  the  wretched  beggar 
who  opens  the  door  for  you,  and  in  a  husky  voice  claims 
his  two  sous.  You  saw  him  at  the  Cafe  Riche,  during 
the  six  months  that  he  was  a  big  financier. 

Some  other  time  you  may  catch,  in  the  crowd, 
snatches  of  a  strange  conversation  between  two  crapu- 
lous rascals. 

"  It  was  at  the  time,"  says  one,  "  when  I  drove  that 
bright  chestnut  team  that  I  had  bought  for  twenty  thou- 
sand francs  of  the  eldest .  son  of  the  Duke  de  Ser- 
meuse." 

"  I  remember,"  replies  the  other ;  "  for  at  that  mo- 


400  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ment  I  gave  six  thousand  francs  a  month  to  little  Cabri- 
ole of  the  Varieties." 

And,  improbable  as  this  may  seem,  it  is  the  exact 
truth ;  for  one  was  manager  of  a  manufacturing  enter- 
prise that  sank  ten  millions;  and  the  other  was  at  the 
head  of  a  financial  operation  that  ruined  five  hundred 
families.  They  had  a  house  like  the  one  in  the  Rue  du 
Cirque,  mistresses  more  expensive  than  Mme.  Zelie 
Cadelle,  and  servants  like  those  who  were  now  talking 
within  a  step  of  Maxence  and  Marius  de  Tregars.  The 
latter  had  resumed  their  conversation;  and  the  oldest 
one,  the  coachman  with  the  red  nose,  was  saying  to  his 
younger  comrade, — 

"  This  Vincent  affair  must  be  a  lesson  to  you.  If  ever 
you  find  yourself  again  in  a  house  where  so  much 
money  is  spent,  remember  that  it  hasn't  cost  much 
trouble  to  make  it,  and  manage  somehow  to  get  as  big 
a  share  of  it  as  you  can." 

"  That's  what  I've  always  done  wherever  I  have 
been." 

"  And,  above  all,  make  haste  to  fill  your  bag,  because, 
you  see,  in  houses  like  that,  one  is  never  sure,  one  day, 
whether,  the  next,  the  gentleman  will  not  be  at  Mazas, 
and  the  lady  at  St.  Lazares." 

They  had  done  their  second  bowl  of  punch,  and 
finished  their  conversation.  They  paid,  and  left. 

And  Maxence  and  M.  de  Tregars  were  able,  at  last, 
to  throw  down  their  cards. 

Maxence  was  very  pale;  and  big  tears  were  rolling 
down  his  cheeks. 

"  What  disgrace !  "  he  murmured.  "  This,  then,  is 
the  other  side  of  my  father's  existence !  This  is  the  way 
in  which  he  spent  the  millions  which  he  stole ;  whilst,  in 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  401 

the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  he  deprived  his  family  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life !  " 

And,  in  a  tone  of  utter  discouragement, — 

"  Now  it  is  indeed  all  over,  and  it  is  useless  to  con- 
tinue our  search.  My  father  is  certainly  guilty.'' 

But  M.  de  Tregars  was  not  the  man  thus  to  give  up 
the  game. 

"  Guilty  ?  Yes,"  he  said,  "  but  dupe  also." 

"Whose  dupe?" 

"  That's  what  we'll  find  out,  you  may  depend  upon 
it." 

"  What !  after  what  we  have  just  heard?  " 

"  I  have  more  hope  than  ever." 

"  Did  you  learn  any  thing  from  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle, 
then?"  " 

"  Nothing  more  than  you  know  by  those  two  rascals' 
conversation." 

A  dozen  questions  were  pressing  upon  Maxence's 
lips ;  but  M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  him. 

"  In  this  case,  my  friend,  less  than  ever  must  we  trust 
appearances.  Let  me  speak.  Was  your  father  a  simple- 
ton? No!  His  ability  to  dissimulate,  for  years,  his 
double  existence,  proves,  on  the  contrary,  a  wonderful 
amount  of  duplicity.  How  is  it,  then,  that  latterly  his 
conduct  has  been  so  extraordinary  and  so  absurd?  But 
you  will  doubtless  say  it  was  always  such.  In  that  case, 
I  answer  you,  No;,  for  then  his  secret  could  not  have 
been  kept  for  a  year.  We  hear  that  other  women  lived 
in  that  house  before  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle.  But  who  were 
they  ?  What  has  become  of  them  ?  Is  there  any  certainty 
that  they  have  ever  existed  ?  Nothing  proves  it. 

"  The  servants  having  been  all  changed,  Amanda,  the 
chambermaid,  is  the  only  one  who  knows  the  truth ;  and 


402  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

she  will  be  very  careful  to  say  nothing  about  it.  There- 
fore, all  our  positive  information  goes  back  no  farther 
than  five  months.  And  what  do  we  hear?  That  your 
father  seemed  to  try  and  make  his  extravagant  ex- 
penditures as  conspicuous  as  possible.  That  he  did  not 
even  take  the  trouble  to  conceal  the  source  of  the  money 
he  spent  so  profusely;  for  he  told  Mme.  Zelie  that  he 
was  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  and  that,  after  having 
spent  his  own  fortune,  he  was  spending  other  people's 
money.  He  had  announced  his  intended  departure;  he 
had  sold  the  house,  and  received  its  price.  Finally,  at 
the  last  moment,  what  does  he  do  ? 

"  Instead  of  going  off  quietly  and  secretly,  like  a 
man  who  is  running  away,  and  who  knows  that  he  is 
pursued,  he  tells  every  one  where  he  intends  to  go;  he 
writes  it  on  all  his  trunks,  in  letters  half  a  foot  high; 
and  then  rides  in  great  display  to  the  railway  station, 
with  a  woman,  several  carriages,  servants,  etc.  What  is 
the  object  of  all  this?  To  get  caught?  No,  but  to  start 
a  false  scent.  Therefore,  in  his  mind,  every  thing  must 
have  been  arranged  in  advance,  and  the  catastrophe  was 
far  from  taking  him  by  surprise;  therefore  the  scene 
with  M.  de  Thaller  must  have  been  prepared;  there- 
fore, it  must  have  been  on  purpose  that  he  left  his  pock- 
etbook  behind,  with  the  bill  in  it  that  was  to  lead  us 
straight  here ;  therefore  all  we  have  seen  is  but  a  trans- 
parent comedy,  got  up  for  our  special  benefit,  and  in- 
tended to  cover  up  the  truth,  and  mislead  the  law." 

But  Maxence  was  not  entirely  convinced. 

"  Still,"  he  remarked,  "  those  enormous  expenses'/' 

M.  de  Tregars  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Have  you  any  idea,"  he  said,  "  what  display  can  be 
made  with  a  million?  Let  us  admit  that  your  father 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  403 

has  spent  two,  four  millions  even.  The  loss  of  the  Mu- 
tual Credit  is  twelve  millions.  What  has  become  of 
the  other  eight?" 

And,  as  Maxence  made  no  answer, — 

"  It  is  those  eight  millions,"  he  added,  "  that  I  want, 
and  that  I  shall  have.  It  is  in  Paris  that  your  father 
is  hid,  I  feel  certain.  We  must  find  him ;  and  we  must 
make  him  tell  the  truth,  which  I  already  more  than  sus- 
pect." 

Whereupon,  throwing  on  the  table  the  pint  of  beer 
which  he  had  not  drunk,  he  walked  out  of  the  cafe  with 
Maxence. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last !  "  exclaimed  the  coachman, 
who  had  been  waiting  at  the  corner  for  over  three  hours, 
a  prey  to  the  utmost  anxiety. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  had  no  time  for  explanations ;  and, 
pushing  Maxence  into  the  cab,  he  jumped  in  after  him, 
crying  to  the  coachman, — 

"  24  Rue  Joquelet.     Five  francs  extra  for  yourself.'' 

A  driver  who  expects  an  extra  five  francs,  always  has, 
for  five  minutes  at  least,  a  horse  as  fast  as  Gladiateur. 

Whilst  the  cab  was  speeding  on  to  its  destination, — 

"  What  is  most  important  for  us  now,"  said  M.  de 
Tregars  to  Maxence,  "  is  to  ascertain  how  far  the  Mu- 
tual Credit  crisis  has  progressed ;  and  M.  Latterman  of 
the  Rue  Joquelet  is  the  man  in  all  Paris  who  can  best  in- 
form us." 

Whoever  has  made  or  lost  five  hundred  francs  at  the 
bourse  knows  M.  Latterman,  who,  since  the  war,  calls 
himself  an  Alsatian  and  curses  with  a  fearful  accent 
those  "  parparous  Broossians."  This  worthy  speculator 
modestly  calls  himself  a  money-changer;  but  he  would 
be  a  simpleton  who  should  ask  him  for  change :  and  it  is 


404  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

certainly  not  that  sort  of  business  which  gives  him  the 
three  hundred  thousand  francs'  profits  which  he  pockets 
every  year. 

When  a  company  has  failed,  when  it  has  been  wound 
up,  and  the  defrauded  stockholders  have  received  two  or 
three  per  cent  in  all  on  their  original  investment,  there 
is  a  prevailing  idea  that  the  certificates  of  its  stocks  are 
no  longer  good  for  any  thing,  except  to  light  the  fire. 
That's  a  mistake.  Long  after  the  company  has  foun- 
dered, its  shares  float,  like  the  shattered  debris  which  the 
sea  casts  upon  the  beach  months  after  the  ship  has  been 
wrecked.  These  shares  M.  Latterman  collects,  and  care- 
fully stores  away ;  and  upon  the  shelves  of  his  office  you 
may  see  numberless  shares  and  bonds  of  those  numer- 
ous companies  which  have  absorbed,  in  the  past  twenty 
years,  according  to  some  statistics,  twelve  hundred  mil- 
lions, and,  according  to  others,  two  thousand  millions, 
of  the  public  fortune. 

Say  but  a  word,  and  his  clerks  will  offer  you  some 
"  Franco-American  Company,"  some  "  Steam  Naviga- 
tion Company  of  Marseilles,"  some  "  Coal  and  Metal 
Company  of  the  Asturias/'  some  "  Transcontinental 
Memphis  and  El  Paso"  (of  the  United  States),  some 
"  Caumart  Slate  Works,"  and  hundreds  of  others, 
which,  for  the  general  public,  have  no  value,  save  that 
of  old  paper,  that  is  from  three  to  five  cents  a  pound. 
And  yet  speculators  are  found  who  buy  and  sell  these 
rags. 

In  an  obscure  corner  of  the  bourse  may  be  seen  a  mis- 
cellaneous population  of  old  men  with  pointed  beards, 
and  overdressed  young  men,  who  deal  in  every  thing 
salable,  and  other  things  besides.  There  are  found  for- 
eign merchants,  who  will  offer  you  stocks  of  merchan- 
dise, goods  from  auction,  good  claims  to  recover,  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  405 

who  at  last  will  take  out  of  their  pockets  an  opera-glass, 
a  Geneva  watch  (smuggled  in),  a  revolver,  or  a  bottle 
of  patent  hair-restorer. 

Such  is  the  market  to  which  drift  those  shares  which 
were  once  issued  to  represent  millions,  and  which  now 
represent  nothing  but  a  palpable  proof  of  the  audacity 
of  swindlers,  and  the  credulity  of  their  dupes.  And 
there  are  actually  buyers  for  these  shares,  and  they  go 
up  or  down,  according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  supply 
and  demand ;  for  there  is  a  demand  for  them,  and  here 
comes  in  the  usefulness  of  M.  Latterman's  business. 

Does  a  tradesman,  on  the  eve  of  declaring  himself 
bankrupt,  wish  to  defraud  his  creditors  of  a  part  of  his 
assets,  to  conceal  excessive  expenses,  or  cover  up  some 
embezzlement,  at  once  he  goes  to  the  Rue  Joquelet,  pro- 
cures a  select  assortment  of  "  Cantonal  Credit,"  "  Ross- 
dorff  Mines,"  or  "  Maumusson  Salt  Works,"  and  puts 
them  carefully  away  in  his  safe. 

And,  when  the  receiver  arrives, — 

"  There  are  my  assets,"  he  says.  "  I  have  there  some 
twenty,  fifty,  or  a  hundred  thousand  francs  of  stocks, 
the  whole  of  which  is  not  worth  five  francs  to-day ;  but 
it  isn't  my  fault.  I  thought  it  a  good  investment ;  and 
I  didn't  sell,  because  I  always  thought  the  price  would 
come  up  again." 

And  he  gets  his  discharge,  because  it  would  really  be 
too  cruel  to  punish  a  man  because  he  has  made  unfor- 
tunate investments. 

Better  than  any  one,  M.  Latterman  knows  for  what 
purpose  are  purchased  the  valueless  securities  which  he 
sells ;  and  he  actually  advises  his  customers  which  to 
take  in  preference,  in  order  that  their  purchase  at  the 
time  of  their  issue  may  appear  more  natural,  and  more 
likely.  Nevertheless,  he  claims  to  be  a  perfectly  honest 


406  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

man,  and  declares  that  he  is  no  more  responsible  for  the 
swindles  that  are  committed  by  means  of  his  stocks  than 
a  gunsmith  for  a  murder  committed  with  a  gun  that  he 
has  sold. 

"  But  he  will  surely  be  able  to  tell  us  all  about  the 
Mutual  Credit,"  repeated  Maxence  to  M.  de  Tregars. 

Four  o'clock  struck  when  the  carriage  stopped  in  the 
Rue  Joquelet.  The  bourse  had  just  closed;  and  a  few 
groups  were  still  standing  in  the  square,  or  along  the 
railings. 

"  I  hope  we  shall  find  this  Latterman  at  home,"  said 
Maxence. 

They  started  up  the  stairs  (for  it  is  up  on  the  second 
floor  that  this  worthy  operator  has  his  offices)  ;  and,  hav- 
ing inquired, — 

"  M.  Latterman  is  engaged  with  a  customer,"  an- 
swered a  clerk.  "  Please  sit  down  and  wait." 

M.  Latterman's  office  was  like  all  other  caverns  of 
the  same  kind.  A  very  narrow  space  was  reserved  to 
the  public ;  and  all  around,  behind  a  heavy  wire  screen, 
the  clerks  could  be  seen  busy  with  figures,  or  handling 
coupons.  On  the  right,  over  a  small  window,  appeared 
the  word,  "  CASHIER."  A  small  door  on  the  left  led  to 
the  private  office. 

M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  had  patiently  taken  a 
seat  on  a  hard  leather  bench,  once  red;  and  they  were 
listening  and  looking  on. 

There  was  considerable  animation  about  the  place. 
Every  few  minutes,  well-dressed  young  men  came  in 
with  a  hurried  and  important  look,  and,  taking  out  of 
their  pocket  a  memorandum-book,  they  would  speak  a 
few  sentences  of  that  peculiar  dialect,  bristling  with 
figures,  which  is  the  language  of  the  bourse.  At  the 
end  of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  407 

"  Will  M.  Latterman  be  engaged  much  longer?  "  in- 
quired M.  de  Tregars. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  a  clerk. 

At  that  very  moment,  the  little  door  on  the  left 
opened,  and  the  customer  came  out  who  had  detained 
M.  Latterman  so  long.  This  customer  was  no  other 
than  M.  Costeclar.  Noticing  M.  de  Tregars  and  Max- 
ence,  who  had  risen  at  the  noise  of  the  door,  he  appeared 
most  disagreeably  surprised.  He  even  turned  slightly 
pale,  and  took  a  step  backwards,  as  if  intending  to  re- 
turn precipitately  into  the  room  that  he  was  leaving; 
for  M.  Latterman's  office,  like  that  of  all  other  large 
operators,  had  several  doors,  without  counting  the  one 
that  leads  to  the  police-court.  But  M.  de  Tregars  gave 
him  no  time  to  effect  this  retreat.  Stepping  suddenly 
forward, — 

"  Well  ?  "  he  asked  him  in  a  tone  that  was  almost 
threatening. 

The  brilliant  financier  had  condescended  to  take  off 
his  hat,  usually  riveted  upon  his  head,  and,  with  the 
smile  of  a  knave  caught  in  the  act, — 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  meet  you  here,  my  lord-mar- 
quis," he  said. 

At  the  title  of  "  marquis,"  everybody  looked  up. 

"  I  believe  you,  indeed,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.  "  But 
what  I  want  to  know  is,  how  is  the  matter  progress- 
ing?" 

"  The  plot  is  thickening.     Justice  is  acting." 

"Indeed!" 

"  It  is  a  fact.  Jules  Jottras,  of  the  house  of  Jottras 
and  Brother,  was  arrested  this  morning,  just  as  he  ar- 
rived at  the  bourse." 

"Why?" 

"  Because,  it  seems,  he  was  an  accomplice  of  Favoral ; 


408  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  it  was  he  who  sold  the  bonds  stolen  from  the  Mu- 
tual Credit." 

Maxence  had  started  at  the  mention  of  his  father's 
name;  but,  with  a  significant  glance,  M.  de  Tregars 
bid  him  remain  silent,  and,  in  a  sarcastic  tone, — 

"  Famous  capture !  "  he  murmured.  "  And  which 
proves  the  clear-sightedness  of  justice." 

"  But  this  is  not  all,"  resumed  M.  Costeclar.  "  Saint 
Pavin,  the  editor  of  '  The  Financial  Pilot,'  you  know,  is 
thought  to  be  seriously  compromised.  There  was  a 
rumor,  at  the  close  of  the  market,  that  a  warrant  either 
had  been,  or  was  about  to  be,  issued  against  him." 

"  And  the  Baron  de  Thaller?  " 

The  employes  of  the  office  could  not  help  admiring 
M.  Costeclar's  extraordinary  amount  of  patience. 

"  The  baron,"  he  replied,  "  made  his  appearance  at 
the  bourse  this  afternoon,  and  was  the  object  of  a  verit- 
able ovation.'' 

"  That  is  admirable !    And  what  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  That  the  damage  was  already  repaired." 

"  Then  the  shares  of  the  Mutual  Credit  must  have 
advanced." 

"  Unfortunately,  not.  They  did  not  go  above  one 
hundred  and  ten  francs." 

"Were  you  not  astonished  at  that?" 

"  Not  much,  because,  you  see,  I  am  a  business-man, 
I  am ;  and  I  know  pretty  well  how  things  work.  When 
they  left  M.  de  Thaller  this  morning,  the  stockholders 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  had  a  meeting;  and  they  pledged 
themselves,  upon  honor,  not  to  sell,  so  as  not  to  break 
the  market.  As  soon  as  they  had  separated,  each  one 
said  to  himself,  '  Since  the  others  are  going  to  keep  their 
stock,  like  fools,  I  am  going  to  sell  mine.'  Now,  as 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  409 

there  were  three  or  four  hundred  of  them  who  argued 
in  the  same  way,  the  market  was  flooded  with  shares.'' 

Looking  the  brilliant  financier  straight  in  the  eyes, — 

"  And  yourself  ?  "  interrupted  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  I !  "  stammered  M.  Costeclar,  so  visibly  agitated, 
that  the  clerks  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Yes.  I  wish  to  know  if  you  have  been  more  faithful 
to  your  word  than  the  stockholders  of  whom  you  are 
speaking,  and  whether  you  have  done  as  we  had 
agreed." 

"  Certainly ;  and,  if  you  find  me  here  " — 

But  M.  de  Tregars,  placing  his  own  hand  over  his 
shoulder,  stopped  him  short. 

"  I  think  I  know  what  brought  you  here,"  he  uttered ; 
"  and  in  a  few  moments  I  shall  have  ascertained." 

"  I  swear  to  you." 

"  Don't  swear.  If  I  am  mistaken,  so  much  the  better 
for  you.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  I'll  prove  to  you  that  it 
is  dangerous  to  try  any  sharp  game  on  me,  though  I  am 
not  a  business-man." 

Meantime  M.  Latterman,  seeing  no  customer  coming 
to  take  the  place  of  the  one  who  had  left,  became  im- 
patient at  last,  and  appeared  upon  the  threshold  of  his 
private  office. 

He  was  a  man  still  young,  small,  thick-set,  and  vul- 
gar. At  the  first  glance,  nothing  of  him  could  be  seen 
but  his  abdomen, — a  big,  great,  and  ponderous  ab- 
domen, seat  of  his  thoughts,  and  tabernacle  of  his 
aspirations,  over  which  dangled  a  double  gold  chain, 
loaded  with  trinkets.  Above  an  apoplectic  neck,  red  as 
that  of  a  turkey-cock,  stood  his  little  head,  covered  with 
coarse  red  hair,  cut  very  short.  He  wore  a  heavy  beard, 
trimmed  in  the  form  of  a  fan.  His  large,  full-moon  face 


410  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

was  divided  in  two  by  a  nose  as  flat  as  a  Kalmuck's,  and 
illuminated  by  two  small  eyes,  in  which  could  be  read  the 
most  thorough  duplicity. 

Seeing  M.  de  Tregars  and  M.  Costeclar  engaged  in 
conversation, — 

"  Why !  you  know  each  other  ?  "  he  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  advanced  a  step, — 

"  We  are  even — intimate  friends/'  he  replied.  "  And 
it  is  very  lucky  that  we  should  have  met.  I  am  brought 
here  by  the  same  matter  as  our  dear  Costeclar;  and  I 
was  just  explaining  to  him  that  he  has  been  too  hasty, 
and  that  it  would  be  best  to  wait  three  or  four  days 
longer." 

"  That's  just  what  I  told  him/'  echoed  the  honorable 
financier. 

Maxence  understood  only  one  thing, — that  M.  de 
Tregars  had  penetrated  M.  Costeclar's  designs ;  and  he 
could  not  sufficiently  admire  his  presence  of  mind,  and 
his  skill  in  grasping  an  unexpected  opportunity. 

"  Fortunately  there  is  nothing  done  yet,"  added  M. 
Latterman. 

"  And  it  is  yet  time  to  alter  what  has  been  agreed  on," 
said  M.  de  Tregars.  And,  addressing  himself  to  Cos- 
teclar,— 

"  Come,"  he  added,  "  we'll  fix  things  with  M.  Latter- 
man." 

But  the  other,  who  remembered  the  scene  in  the  Rue 
St.  Gilles,  and  who  had  his  own  reasons  to  be  alarmed, 
would  sooner  have  jumped  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  am  expected/'  he  stammered.  "  Arrange  matters 
without  me." 

"  Then  you  give  me  carte  blanche  f  " 

Ah,  if  the  brilliant  financier  had  dared !    But  he  felt 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  411 

riveted  upon  him  such  threatening  eyes,  that  he  dared 
not  even  make  a  gesture  of  denial. 

"  Whatever  you  do  will  be  satisfactory,"  he  said  in 
the  tone  of  a  man  who  sees  himself  lost. 

And,  as  he  was  going  out  of  the  door,  M.  de  Tregars 
stepped  into  M.  Latterman's  private  office.  He  remained 
only  five  minutes;  and  when  he  joined  Maxence,  whom 
he  had  begged  to  wait  for  him, — 

"  I  think  that  we  have  got  them,"  he  said  as  they 
walked  off. 

Their  next  visit  was  to  M.  Saint  Pavin,  at  the  office 
of  "  The  Financial  Pilot."  Every  one  must  have  seen 
at  least  one  copy  of  that  paper  with,  its  ingenious  vig- 
nette, representing  a  bold  mariner  steering  a  boat,  filled 
with  timid  passengers,  towards  the  harbor  of  Million, 
over  a  stormy  sea,  bristling  with  the  rocks  of  failure  and 
the  shoals  of  ruin.  The  office  of  "  The  Pilot  "  is,  in  fact, 
less  a  newspaper  office  than  a  sort  of  general  business 
agency. 

As  at  M.  Latterman's,  there  are  clerks  scribbling  be- 
hind wire  screens,  small  windows,  a  cashier,  and  an  im- 
mense blackboard,  on  which  the  latest  quotations  of  the 
Rente,  and  other  French  and  foreign  securities,  are 
written  in  chalk. 

As  "The  Pilot"  spends  some  hundred  thousand  francs 
a  year  in  advertising,  in  order  to  obtain  subscribers ;  as, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  only  costs  three  francs  a  year, — it 
is  clear  that  it  is  not  on  its  subscriptions  that  it  realizes 
any  profits.  It  has  other  sources  of  income :  its  broker- 
ages first ;  for  it  buys,  sells,  and  executes,  as  the  pros- 
pectus says,  all  orders  for  stocks,  bonds,  or  other  secur- 
ities, for  the  best  interests  of  the  client.  And  it  has 
plenty  of  business.  >  " 


412  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

To  the  opulent  brokerages,  must  be  added  advertising 
and  puffing, — another  mine.  Six  times  out  of  ten,  when 
a  new  enterprise  is  set  on  foot,  the  organizers  send  for 
Saint  Pavin.  Honest  men,  or  knaves,  they  must  all  pass 
through  his  hands.  They  know  it,  and  are  resigned  in 
advance. 

"  We  rely  upon  you,"  they  say  to  him. 

"  What  advantages  have  you  to  offer  ?  "  he  replies. 

Then  they  discuss  the  operation,  the  expected  profits 
of  the  new  company,  and  M.  Saint  Pavin's  demands. 
For  a  hundred  thousand  francs  he  promises  bursts  of 
lyrism;  for  fifty  thousand  he  will  be  enthusiastic  only. 
Twenty  thousand  francs  will  secure  a  moderate  praise 
of  the  affair ;  ten  thousand,  a  friendly  neutralitv. 

And,  if  the  said  company  refuses  any  advantages  to 
"The  Pilot  "— 

"  Ah,  you  must  beware !  "  says  Saint  Pavin. 

And  from  the  very  next  number  he  commences  his 
campaign.  He  is  moderate  at  first,  and  leaves  a  door 
open  for  his  retreat.  He  puts  forth  doubts  only.  He 
does  not  know  much  about  it.  "  It  may  be  an  excellent 
thing;  it  may  be  a  wretched  one:  the  safest  is  to  wait 
and  see." 

That's  the  first  hint.  If  it  remains  without  result,  he 
takes  up  his  pen  again,  and  makes  his  doubts  more 
pointed. 

He  knows  how  to  steer  clear  of  libel  suits,  how  to 
handle  figures  so  as  to  demonstrate,  according  to  the 
requirements  of  the  case,  that  two  and  two  make  three, 
or  make  five.  It  is  seldom,  that,  before  the  third  article, 
the  company  does  not  surrender  at  discretion. 

All  Paris  knows  him;  and  he  has  many  friends. 
When  M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  arrived,  they  found 
the  office  full  of  people — speculators,  brokers,  go-be- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  413 

tweens — come  there  to  discuss  the  fluctuations  of  the 
day  and  the  probabilities  of  the  evening  market. 

"  M.  Saint  Pavin  is  engaged,"  one  of  the  clerks  told 
them. 

Indeed,  his  coarse  voice  could  be  distinctly  heard  be- 
hind the  screen.  Soon  he  appeared,  showing  out  an  old 
gentleman,  who  seemed  utterly  confused  at  the  scene, 
and  to  whom  he  was  screaming, — 

"  No,  sir,  no !  '  The  Financial  Pilot '  does  not  take 
that  sort  of  business ;  and  I  find  you  very  bold  to  come 
and  propose  to  me  a  twopenny  rascality."  But,  noticing 
Maxence, — 

"  M.  Favoral !  "  he  said.  "  By  Jove !  it  is  your  good 
star  that  has  brought  you  here.  Come  into  the  private 
office,  my  dear  sir:  come,  we'll  have  some  fun  now." 

Many  of  the  people  who  were  in  the  office  had  a 
word  to  say  to  M.  Saint  Pavin,  some  advice  to  ask  him, 
an  order  to  transmit,  or  some  news  to  communicate. 
They  had  all  stepped  forward,  and  were  holding  out 
their  hands  with  a  friendly  smile.  He  set  them  aside 
with  his  usual  rudeness. 

"  By  and  by.    I  am  busy  now :  leave  me  alone." 

'And  pushing  Maxence  towards  the  office-door,  which 
he  had  just  opened, — 

"  Come  in,  come  in !  "  he  said  in  a  tone  of  extraor- 
dinary impatience. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  was  coming  in  too ;  and,  as  he  did 
not  know  him, — 

"  What  do  you  want,  you  ?  "  he  asked  roughly. 

"  The  gentleman  is  my  best  friend,"  said  Maxence, 
turning  to  him ;  "  and  I  have  no  secret  from  him." 

"  Let  him  walk  in,  then ;  but,  by  Heaven,  let  us 
hurry!" 

Once  very  sumptuous,  the  private  office  of  the  editor 


414     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

of  "  The  Financial  Pilot "  had  fallen  into  a  state  of  sor- 
did dilapidation.  If  the  janitor  had  received  orders 
never  to  use  a  broom  or  a  duster  there,  he  obeyed  them 
strictly.  Disorder  and  dirt  reigned  supreme.  Papers  and 
manuscripts  lay  in  all  directions ;  and  on  the  broad  sofas 
the  mud  from  the  boots  of  all  those  who  had  lounged 
upon  them  had  been  drying  for  months.  On  the  mantel- 
piece, in  the  midst  of  some  half-dozen  dirty  glasses, 
stood  a  bottle  of  Madeira,  half  empty.  Finally,  before 
the  fireplace,  on  the  carpet,  and  along  the  furniture, 
cigar  and  cigarette  stumps  were  heaped  in  profusion. 

As  soon  as  he  had  bolted  the  door,  coming  straight  to 
Maxence, — 

"'What  has  become  of  your  father?"  inquired  M. 
Saint  Pavin  rudely. 

Maxence  started.  That  was  the  last  question  he  ex- 
pected to  hear. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  replied. 

The  manager  of  "  The  Pilot  "  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  That  you  should  say  so  to  the  commissary  of  police, 
to  the  judges,  and  to  all  Favoral's  enemies,  I  under- 
stand :  it  is  your  duty.  That  they  should  believe  you,  I 
understand  too ;  for,  after  all,  what  do  they  care  ?  But 
to  me,  a  friend,  though  you  may  not  think  so,  and  who 
has  reasons  not  to  be  credulous  " — 

"  I  swear  to  you  that  we  have  no  idea  where  he  has 
taken  refuge.*' 

Maxence  said  this  with  such  an  accent  of  sincerity, 
that  doubt  was  no  longer  possible.  M.  Saint  Pavin's 
features  expressed  the  utmost  surprise. 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  your  father  has  gone  with- 
out securing  the  means  of  hearing  from  his  family?" 

"  Yes." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  415 

"  Without  saying  a  word  of  his  intentions  to  your 
mother,  or  your  sister,  or  yourself  ?  " 

"  Without  one  word/' 

"  Without  leaving  any  money,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  We  found  only  an  insignificant  sum  after  he  left." 

The  editor  of  "  The  Pilot  "  made  a  gesture  of  ironical 
admiration.  "  Well,  the  thing  is  complete,"  he  said ; 
"  and  Vincent  is  a  smarter  fellow  than  I  gave  him 
credit  for;  or  else  he  must  have  cared  more  for  those 
infernal  women  of  his  than  any  one  supposed." 

M.  de  Tregars,  who  had  remained  hitherto  silent,  now 
stepped  forward. 

"  What  women  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  "  he  replied  roughly.  "  How 
could  any  one  ever  find  out  any  thing  about  a  man  who 
was  more  hermetically  shut  up  in  his  coat  than  a  Jesuit 
in  his  gown  ?  " 

"  M.  Costeclar  "— 

"  That's  another  nice  bird !  Still  he  may  possibly  have 
discovered  something  of  Vincent's  life;  for  he  led  him 
a  pretty  dance.  Wasn't  he  about  to  marry  Mile.  Favoral 
once  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  spite  of  herself  even." 

"  Then  you  are  right :  he  had  discovered  something. 
But,  if  you  rely  on  him  to  tell  you  anything  whatever, 
you  are  reckoning  without  your  host." 

"  Who  knows  ? "  murmured  M.  de  Tregars. 

But  M.  Saint  Pavin  heard  him  not.  Prey  to  a  violent 
agitation,  he  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Ah,  those  men  of  cold  appearance,"  he  growled, 
"  those  men  with  discreet  countenance,  those  close-shav- 
ing calculators,  those  moralists!  What  fools  they  do 
make  of  themselves  when  once  started!  Who  can  im- 


416  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

agine  to  what  insane  extremities  this  one  may  have 
been  driven  under  the  spur  of  some  mad  passion !  " 

And  stamping  violently  his  foot  upon  the  carpet,  from 
which  arose  clouds  of  dust, — 

"  And  yet,"  he  swore,  "  I  must  find  him.  And,  by 
thunder !  wherever  he  may  be  hid,  I  shall  find  him." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  watching  M.  Saint  Pavin  with  a 
scrutinizing  eye. 

"  You  have  a  great  interest  in  finding  him,  then  ?  "  he 
said. 

The  other  stopped  short. 

"  I  have  the  interest,"  he  replied,  "  of  a  man  who 
thought  himself  shrewd,  and  who  has  been  taken  in  like 
a  child, — of  a  man  to  whom  they  had  promised  wonders, 
and  who  finds  his  situation  imperilled, —  of  a  man  who 
is  tired  of  working  for  a  band  of  brierands  who  heap 
millions  upon  millions,  and  to  whom,  for  all  reward,  they 
offer  the  police-court  and  a  retreat  in  the  State  Prison 
for  his  old  age, — in  a  word,  the  interests  of  a  man  who 
will  and  shall  have  revenge,  by  all  that  is  holy !  " 

"On  whom?" 

"  On  the  Baron  de  Thaller,  sir !  How,  in  the  world, 
has  he  been  able  to  compel  Favoral  to  assume  the  re- 
sponsibility of  all,  and  to  disappear?  What  enormous 
sum  has  he  given  to  him  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  interrupted  Maxence,  "  my  father  went  off 
without  a  sou." 

M.  Saint  Pavin  burst  out  in  a  loud  laugh. 

"  And  the  twelve  millions  ?  ''  he  asked.  "  What  has 
become  of  them?  Do  you  suppose  they  have  been  dis- 
tributed in  deeds  of  charity  ?  " 

And  without  waiting  for  any  further  objections, — 

"  And  yet,"  he  went  on,  "  it  is  not  with  money  alone 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  417 

that  a  man  can  be  induced  to  disgrace  himself,  to  con- 
fess himself  a  thief  and  a  forger,  to  brave  the  galleys, 
to  give  up  everything, — country,  family,  friends.  Evi- 
dently the  Baron  de  Thaller  must  have  had  other  means 
of  action,  some  hold  on  Favoral " — 

M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  him. 

"  You  speak,"  he  said,  "  as  if  you  were  absolutely  cer- 
tain of  M.  de  Thaller's  complicity." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Why  don't  you  inform  on  him,  then  ?  " 

The  editor  of  "  The  Pilot "  started  back. 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  draw  the  fingers  of  the  law 
into  my  own  business !  You  don't  think  of  it !  Besides, 
what  good  would  that  do  me  ?  I  have  no  proofs  of  my 
allegations.  Do  you  suppose  that  Thaller  has  not  taken 
his  precautions,  and  tied  my  hands?  No,  no!  without 
Favoral  there  is  nothing  to  be  done." 

"  Do  you  suppose,  then,  that  you  could  induce  him 
to  surrender  himself  ?  " 

"  No,  but  to  furnish  me  the  proofs  I  need,  to  send 
Thaller  where  they  have  already  sent  that  poor  Jottras." 

And,  becoming  more  and  more  excited, — 

"  But  it  is  not  in  a  month  that  I  should  want  those 
proofs,"  he  went  on,  "  nor  even  in  two  weeks,  but  to- 
morrow, but  at  this  very  moment.  Before  the  end  of  the 
week,  Thaller  will  have  wound  up  the  operation,  real- 
ized, Heaven  knows  how  many  millions,  and  put  every 
thing  in  such  nice  order,  that  justice,  who  in  financial 
matters  is  not  of  the  first  capacity,  will  discover  nothing 
wrong.  If  he  can  do  that,  he  is  safe,  he  is  beyond  reach, 
and  will  be  dubbed  a  first-class  financier.  Then  to  what 
may  he  not  aspire !  Already  he  talks  of  having  himself 
elected  deputy;  and  he  says  everywhere  that  he  has 


418  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

found,  to  marry  his  daughter,  a  gentleman  who  bears 
one  of  the  oldest  names  in  France, — the  Marquis  de 
Tregars." 

"  Why,  this  is  the  Marquis  de  Tregars !  v  exclaimed 
Maxence,  pointing  to  Marius. 

For  the  first  time,  M.  Saint  Pavin  took  the  trouble  to 
examine  his  visitor ;  and  he,  who  knew  life  too  well  not 
to  be  a  judge  of  men,  he  seemed  surprised. 

"  Please  excuse  me,  sir,"  he  uttered  with  a  politeness 
very  different  from  his  usual  manner,  "  and  permit  me 
to  ask  you  if  you  know  the  reasons  why  M.  de  Thaller 
is  so  prodigiously  anxious  to  have  you  for  a  son-in-law." 

"  I  think,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars  coldly,  "  that  M. 
de  Thaller  would  not  be  sorry  to  deprive  me  of  the  right 
to  seek  the  causes  of  my  father's  ruin." 

But  he  was  interrupted  by  a  great  noise  of  voices  in 
the  adjoining  room;  and  almost  at  once  there  was  a 
loud  knock  at  the  door,  and  a  voice  called, — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law !  " 

The  editor  of  "  The  Pilot "  had  become  whiter  than 
his  shirt. 

"  That's  what  I  was  afraid  of,"  he  said.  "  Thaller  has 
got  ahead  of  me ;  and  perhaps  I  may  be  lost." 

Meantime  he  did  not  lose  his  wits.  Quick  as  thought 
he  took  out  of  a  drawer  a  package  of  letters,  threw 
them  into  the  fireplace,  and  set  fire  to  them,  saying,  in 
a  voice  made  hoarse  by  emotion  and  anger, — 

"  No  one  shall  come  in  until  they  are  burnt." 

But  it  required  an  incredibly  long  time  to  make  them 
catch  fire;  and  M.  Saint  Pavin,  kneeling  before  the 
hearth,  was  stirring  them  up,  and  scattering  them,  to 
make  them  burn  faster. 

"  And  now,"  said  M.  de  Tregars,  "  will  you  hesi- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  419 

tate  to  deliver  up  the  Baron  de  Thaller  into  the  hands  of 
justice?  " 

He  turned  around  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Now,"  he  replied,  "  if  I  wish  to  save  myself,  I  must 
save  him  too.  Don't  you  understand  that  he  holds  me  ?  " 

And,  seeing  that  the  last  sheets  of  his  correspondence 
were  consumed, — 

"  You  ma*y  open  now,"  he  said  to  Maxence. 

Maxence  obeyed ;  and  a  commissary  of  police,  wear- 
ing his  scarf  of  office,  rushed  into  the  room ;  whilst  his 
men,  not  without  difficulty,  kept  back  the  crowd  in  the 
outer  office, — 

The  commissary,  who  was  an  old  hand,  and  had  per- 
haps been  on  a  hundred  expeditions  of  this  kind,  had 
surveyed  the  scene  at  a  glance.  Noticing  in  the  fire- 
place the  carbonized  debris,  upon  which  still  fluttered  an 
expiring  flame, — 

"  That's  the  reason,  then,"  he  said,  "  why  you  were 
so  long  opening  the  door  ?  " 

A  sarcastic  smile  appeared  upon  the  lips  of  the  editor 
of  "  The  Pilot." 

"  Private  matters,"  he  replied ;  "  women's  letters." 

"  This  will  be  moral  evidence  against  you,  sir." 

"  I  prefer  it  to  material  evidence." 

Without  condescending  to  notice  the  impertinence, 
the  commissary  was  casting  a  suspicious  glance  on  Max- 
ence and  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  Who  are  these  gentlemen  who  were  closeted  with 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Visitors,  sir.  This  is  M.  Favoral." 

"  The  son  of  the  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit?  " 

"  Exactly ;  and  this  gentleman  is  the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gars." 


420  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  You  should  have  opened  the  door  when  you  heard 
a  knocking  in  the  name  of  the  law,"  grumbled  the  com- 
missary. 

But  he  did  not  insist.  Taking  a  paper  from  his  pocket, 
he  opened  it,  and,  handing  it  to  M.  Saint  Pavin, — 

"  I  have  orders  to  arrest  you,"  he  said.  "  Here  is  the 
warrant." 

With  a  careless  gesture,  the  other  pushed  it  back. 

"  What's  the  use  of  reading  ?  "  he  said.  "  When  I 
heard  of  the  arrest  of  that  poor  Jottras,  I  guessed  at 
once  what  was  in  store  for  me.  It  is  about  the  Mutual 
Credit  swindle,  I  imagine." 

"  Exactly." 

"  I  have  no  more  to  do  with  it  than  yourself,  sir ;  and 
I  shall  have  very  little  trouble  in  proving  it.  But  that  is 
not  your  business.  And  you  are  going,  I  suppose,  to  put 
the  seals  on  my  papers  ?  " 

"  Except  on  those  that  you  have  burnt." 

M.  Saint  Pavin  burst  out  laughing.  He  had  recov- 
ered his  coolness  and  his  impudence,  and  seemed  as 
much  at  ease  as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world. 

"  Shall  I  be  allowed  to  speak  to  my  clerks,"  he  asked, 
"  and  to  give  them  my  instructions  ?. " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  commissary,  "  but  in  my  pres- 
ence." 

The  clerks,  being  called,  appeared,  consternation  de- 
picted upon  their  countenances,  but  joy  sparkling  in 
their  eyes.  In  reality  they  were  delighted  at  the  mis- 
fortune which  befell  their  employer. 

"  You  see  what  happens  to  me,  my  boys,"  he  said. 
"  But  don't  be  uneasy.  In  less  than  forty-eight  hours, 
the  error  of  which  I  am  the  victim  will  be  recognized, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     421 

and  I  shall  be  liberated  on  bail.  At  any  rate,  I  can  rely 
upon  you,  can't  I  ?  " 

They  all  swore  that  they  would  be  more  attentive  and 
more  zealous  than  ever. 

And  then  addressing  himself  to  his  cashier,  who  was 
his  confidential  and  right-hand  man, — 

"  As  to  you,  Bernard,"  he  said,  "  you  will  run  to  M. 
de  Thaller's,  and  advise  him  of  what's  going  on.  Let  him 
have  funds  ready;  for  all  our  depositors  will  want  to 
draw  out  their  money  at  once.  You  will  then  call  at  the 
printing-office:  have  my  article  on  the  Mutual  Credit 
kept  out,  and  insert  in  its  place  some  financial  news  cut 
out  from  other  papers.  Above  all,  don't  mention  my  ar- 
rest, unless  M.  de  Thaller  should  demand  it.  Go  ahead, 
and  let  '  The  Pilot '  appear  as  usual :  that's  important." 

He  had,  whilst  speaking,  lighted  a  cigar.  The  honest 
man,  victim  of  human  iniquity,  has  not  a  firmer  and 
more  tranquil  countenance. 

"  Justice  does  not  know/'  he  said  to  the  commissary, 
who  was  fumbling  in  all  the  drawers  of  the  desk,  "  what 
irreparable  damage  she  may  cause  by  arresting  so  hastily 
a  man  who  has  charge  of  immense  interests  like  me.  It 
is  the  fortune  of  ten  or  twelve  small  capitalists  that  is 
put  in  jeopardy." 

Already  the  witnesses  of  the  arrest  had  retired,  one 
by  one,  to  go  and  scatter  the  news  along  the  Boulevard, 
and  also  to  see  what  could  be  made  out  of  it;  for,  at 
the  bourse,  news  is  money. 

M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  left  also.  As  they  passed 
the  door, — 

"  Don't  you  say  any  thing  about  what  I  told  you,"  M. 
S-iint  Pavin  recommended  to  them. 

M.  de  Tregars  made  no  answer.    He  had  the  con- 


422  -         OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

tracted  features  and  tightly-drawn  lips  of  a  man  who  is 
maturing  a  grave  determination,  which,  once  taken  will 
be  irrevocable. 

Once  in  the  street,  and  when  Maxence  had  opened 
the  carriage-door, — 

"  We  are  going  to  separate  here,"  he  told  him  in  that 
brief  tone  of  voice  which  reveals  a  settled  plan.  "  I 
know  enough  now  to  venture  to  call  at  M.  de  Thaller's. 
There  only  shall  I  be  able  to  see  how  to  strike  the  de- 
cisive blow.  Return  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles,  and  relieve 
your  mother's  and  sister's  anxiety.  You  shall  see  me 
during  the  evening,  I  promise  you." 

And,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  jumped  into 
the  cab,  which  started  off. 

But  it  was  not  to  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  that  Maxence 
went.  He  was  anxious,  first,  to  see  Mile.  Lucienne,  to 
tell  her  the  events  of  that  day,  the  busiest  of  his  exist- 
ence ;  to  tell  her  his  discoveries,  his  surprises,  his  anxi- 
eties, and  his  hopes. 

To  his  great  surprise,  he  failed  to  find  her  at  the  Hotel 
des  Folies.  She  had  gone  riding  at  three  o'clock,  M. 
Fortin  told  him,  and  had  not  yet  returned ;  but  she  could 
not  be  much  longer,  as  it  was  already  getting  dark. 
Maxence  went  out  again  then,  to  see  if  he  could  not  meet 
her.  He  had  walked  a  little  way  along  the  Boulevard, 
when,  at  some  distance  off,  on  the  Place  du  Chateau 
d'Eau,  he  thought  he  noticed  an  unusual  bustle.  Almost ' 
immediately  he  heard  shouts  of  terror.  Frightened  peo7 
ple  were  running  in  all  directions ;  and  right  before  him 
a  carriage,  going  at  full  gallop,  passed  like  a  flash. 

But,  quick  as  it  had  passed,  he  had  time  to  recognize 
Mile.  Lucienne,  pale,  and  clinging  desperately  to  the 
seat.  Wild  with  fear,  he  started  after  it  as  fast  as  he 
could  run.  It  was  clear  that  the  driver  had  no  control 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  423 

over  his  horses.  A  policeman  who  tried  to  stop  them  was 
knocked  down.  Ten  steps  farther,  the  hind-wheel  of  the 
carriage,  catching  the  wheel  of  a  heavy  wagon,  broke  to 
splinters ;  and  Mile.  Lucienne  was  thrown  into  the  street, 
whilst  the  driver  fell  over  on  the  sidewalk. 


VI. 

THE  Baron  de  Thaller  was  too  practical  a  man  to 
live  in  the  same  house,  or  even  in  the  same  district, 
where  his  offices  were  located.  To  dwell  in  the  midst 
of  his  business;  to  be  constantly  subjected  to  the  con- 
tact of  his  employes,  to  the  unkindly  comments  of  a 
crowd  of  subordinates ;  to  expose  himself  to  hourly  an- 
noyances, to  sickening  solicitations,  to  the  reclamations 
and  eternal  complaints  of  his  stockholders  and  his  cli- 
ents !  Pouah !  He'd  have  given  up  the  business  first. 
And  so,  on  the  very  days  when  he  had  established  the 
offices  of  the  Mutual  Credit  in  the  Rue  de  Quatre-Sep- 
tembre,  he  had  purchased  a  house  in  the  Rue  de  la 
Pepiniere,  within  a  step  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore. 

It  was  a  brand-new  house,  which  had  never  yet  been 
occupied,  and  which  had  just  been  erected  by  a  con- 
tractor who  was  almost  celebrated,  towards  1866,  at  the 
moment  of  the  great  transformations  of  Paris,  when 
whole  blocks  were  levelled  to  the  ground,  and  rose  again 
so  rapidly,  that  one  might  well  wonder  whether  the  ma- 
sons, instead  of  a  trowel,  did  not  make  use  of  a  magi- 
cian's wand. 

This  contractor,  named  Parcimieux,  had  come  from 
the  Limousin  in  1860,  with  his  carpenter's  tools  for  all 
fortune,  and,  in  less  than  six  years,  had  accumulated, 
at  the  lowest  estimate,  six  millions  of  francs.  Only  he 


424  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

was  a  modest  man,  and  took  as  much  pains  to  conceal 
his  fortune,  and  offend  no  one,  as  most  parvenus  do  to 
display  their  wealth,  and  insult  the  public. 

Though  he  could  hardly  sign  his  name,  yet  he  knew 
and  practised  the  maxim  of  the  Greek  philosopher, 
which  is,  perhaps,  the  true  secret  of  happiness, — hide 
thy  life.  And  there  were  no  expedients  to  which  he  did 
not  resort  to  hide  it.  At  the  time  of  his  greatest  pros- 
perity, for  instance,  having  need  of  a  carriage,  he  had 
applied  to  the  manager  of  the  Petites  Voitures  Company, 
and  had  had  built  for  himself  two  cabs,  outwardly  simi- 
lar in  every  respect  to  those  used  by  the  company,  but 
within,  most  luxuriously  upholstered,  and  drawn  by 
horses  of  common  appearance,  but  who  could  go  their 
twenty-five  miles  in  two  hours  any  day.  And  these  he 
had  hired  by  the  year. 

Having  his  carriage,  the  worthy  builder  determined 
to  have,  also,  his  house,  his  own  house,  built  by  himself. 
But  this  required  infinitely  greater  precautions  still. 

"  For,  as  you  may  imagine,"  he  explained  to  his 
friends,  "  a  man  does  not  make  as  much  money  as  I 
have,  without  also  making  many  cruel,  bitter,  and  ir- 
reconcilable enemies.  I  have  against  me  all  the  builders 
who  have  not  succeeded,  all  the  sub-contractors  I  em- 
ploy, and  who  say  that  I  speculate  on  their  poverty,  and 
the  thousands  of  workmen  who  work  for  me,  and  swear 
that  I  grind  them  down  to  the  dust.  Already  they  call 
me  brigand,  slaver,  thief,  leech.  What  would  it  be,  if 
they  saw  me  living  in  a  beautiful  house  of  my  own? 
They'd  swear  that  I  could  not  possibly  have  got  so  rich 
honestly,  and  that  I  must  have  committed  some  crimes. 
Besides,  to  build  me  a  handsome  house  on  the  street 
would  be,  in  case  of  a  mob,  setting  up  windows  for  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  425 

stones  of  all  the  rascals  who  have  been  in  my  employ- 
ment." 

Such  were  M.  Parctmieux's  thoughts,  when,  as  he  ex- 
pressed it,  he  resolved  to  build. 

A  lot  was  for  sale  in  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere.  He 
bought  it,  and  at  the  same  time  purchased  the  adjoining 
house,  which  he  immediately  caused  to  be  torn  down. 
This  operation  placed  in  his  possession  a  vast  piece  of 
ground,  not  very  wide,  but  of  great  depth,  stretching, 
as  it  did,  back  to  the  Rue  Labaume.  At  once  work  was 
begun  according  to  a  plan  which  his  architect  and  him- 
self had  spent  six  months  in  maturing.  On  the  line  of 
the  street  arose  a  house  of  the  most  modest  appearance, 
two  stories  in  height  only,  with  a  very  high  and  very 
wide  carriage-door  for  the  passage  of  vehicles.  This  was 
to  deceive  the  vulgar  eye, — the  outside  of  the  cab,  as  it 
were.  Behind  this  house,  between  a  spa*cious  court  and  a 
vast  garden  was  built  the  residence  of  which  M.  Parci- 
mieux  had  dreamed;  and  it  really  was  an  exceptional 
building  both  by  the  excellence  of  the  materials  used, 
and  by  the  infinite  care  which  presided  over  the  minutest 
details.  The  marbles  for  the  vestibule  and  the  stairs 
were  brought  from  Africa,  Italy,  and  Corsica.  He  sent 
to  Rome  for  workmen  for  the  mosaics.  The  joiner  and 
locksmithing  work  was  intrusted  to  real  artists. 

Repeating  to  every  one  that  he  was  working  for  a 
great  foreign  lord,  whose  orders  he  went  to  take  every 
morning,  he  was  free  to  indulge  his  most  extravagant 
fancies,  without  fearing  jests  or  unpleasant  remarks. 

Poor  old  man !  The  day  when  the  last  workman  had 
driven  in  the  last  nail,  an  attack  of  apoplexy  carried  him 
off,  without  giving  him  time  to  say,  "  Oh !  "  Two  days 
after,  all  his  relatives  from  the  Limousin  were  swooping 


426  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

into  Paris  like  a  pack  of  wolves.  Six  millions  to  divide : 
what  a  godsend!  Litigation  followed,  as  a  matter  of 
course;  and  the  house  was  offered  for  sale  under  a  judg- 
ment. 

M.  de  Thaller  bought  it  for  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  thousand  francs, — about  one-third  what  it  had  cost 
to  build. 

A  month  later  he  had  moved  into  it ;  and  the  expenses 
which  he  incurred  to  furnish  it  in  a  style  worthy  of  the 
building  itself  was  the  talk  of  the  town.  And  yet  he  was 
not  fully  satisfied  with  his  purchase. 

Unlike  M.  Parcimieux,  he  had  no  wish  whatever  to 
conceal  his  wealth. 

What !  he  owned  one  of  those  exquisite  houses  which 
excite  at  once  the  wonder  and  the  envy  of  passers-by, 
and  that  house  was  hid  behind  such  a  common-looking 
building ! 

"  I  must  have  that  shanty  pulled  down,"  he  said  from 
time  to  time. 

And  then  he  thought  of  something  else;  and  the 
"  shanty  "  was  still  standing  on  that  evening,  when, 
after  leaving  Maxence,  M.  de  Tregars  presented  him- 
self at  M.  de  Thaller's. 

The  servants  had,  doubtless,  received  their  instruc- 
tions; for,  as  soon  as  Marius  emerged  from  the  porch 
of  the  front-house,  the  porter  advanced  from  his  lodge, 
bent  double,  his  mouth  open  to  his  very  ears  by  the  most 
obsequious  smile. 

Without  waiting  for  a  question, — 

"  The  baron  has  not  yet  come  home,"  he  said.  "  But 
he  cannot  be  much  longer  away ;  and  certainly  the 
baroness  is  at  home  for  my  lord-marquis.  Please,  then, 
give  yourself  the  trouble  to  pass/' 

And,  standing  aside,  he  struck  upon  the  enormous 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  427 

gong  that  stood  near  his  lodge  a  single  sharp  blow,  in- 
tended to  wake  up  the  footman  on  duty  in  the  vestibule, 
and  to  announce  a  visitor  of  note.  Slowly,  but  not  with- 
out quietly  observing  every  thing,  M.  de  Tregars 
crossed  the  courtyard,  covered  with  fine  sand, — they 
would  have  powdered  it  with  golden  dust,  if  they  had 
dared, — and  surrounded  on  all  sides  with  bronze  bas- 
kets, in  which  beautiful  rhododendrons  were  blossom- 
ing. 

It  was  nearly  six  o'clock.  The  manager  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  dined  at  seven ;  and  the  preparations  for  this  im- 
portant event  were  everywhere  apparent.  Through  the 
large  windows  of  the  dining-room  the  steward  could  be 
seen  presiding  over  the  setting  of  the  table.  The  butler 
was  coming  up  from  the  cellar,  loaded  with  bottles. 
Finally,  through  the  apertures  of  the  basement  arose 
the  appetizing  perfumes  of  the  kitchen. 

What  enormous  business  it  required  to  support  such 
a  style,  to  display  this  luxury,  which  would  shame  one 
of  those  German  princelings,  who  exchanged  the  crown 
of  their  ancestors  for  a  Prussian  livery  gilded  with 
French  gold! — other  people's  money. 

Meantime,  the  blow  struck  by  the  porter  on  the  gong 
had  produced  the  desired  effect;  and  the  gates  of  the 
vestibule  seemed  to  open  of  their  own  accord  before  M. 
de  Tregars  as  he  ascended  the  stoop. 

This  vestibule  with  the  splendor  of  which  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne  had  been  so  deeply  impressed,  would,  indeed,  have 
been  worthy  the  attention  of  an  artist,  had  it  been  al- 
lowed to  retain  the  simple  grandeur  and  the  severe 
harmony  which  M.  Parcimieux's  architect  had  imparted 
to  it. 

But  M.  de  Thaller,  as  he  was  proud  of  boasting,  had 
a  perfect  horror  of  simplicity ;  and,  wherever  he  discov- 


428  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ered  a  vacant  space  as  big  as  his  hand,  he  hung  a  picture, 
a  bronze,  or  a  piece  of  china,  any  thing  and  anyhow. 

The  two  footmen  were  standing  when  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  came  in.  Without  asking  any  question,  "  Will  M. 
le  Marquis  please  follow  me  ?  "  said  the  youngest. 

And,  opening  the  broad  glass  doors^  he  began  walk- 
ing in  front  of  M.  de  Tregars,  along  a  staircase  with 
marble  railing,  the  elegant  proportions  of  which  were 
absolutely  ruined  by  a  ridiculous  profusion  of  "  objects 
of  art  "  of  all  nature,  and  from  all  sources.  This  stair- 
case led  to  a  vast  semicircular  landing,  upon  which, 
between  columns  of  precious  marble,  opened  three  wide 
doors.  The  footman  opened  the  middle  one,  which  led 
to  M.  de  Thaller's  picture-gallery,  a  celebrated  one  in 
the  financial  world,  and  which  had  acquired  for  him  the 
reputation  of  an  enlightened  amateur. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  had  no  time  to  examine  this 
gallery,  which,  moreover,  he  already  knew  well  enough. 
The  footman  showed  him  into  the  small  drawing-room 
of  the  baroness,  a  bijou  of  a  room,  furnished  in  gilt  and 
crimson  satin. 

"  Will  M.  le  Marquis  be  kind  enough  to  take  a  seat  ?  " 
he  said.  "  I  run  to  notify  Mme.  le  Baronne  of  M.  le 
Marquis's  visit." 

The  footman  uttered  these  titles  of  nobility  with  a 
singular  pomp,  and  as  if  some  of  their  lustre  was  re- 
flected upon  himself.  Nevertheless,  it  was  evident  that 
"  Marquis  "  jingled  to  his  ear  much  more  pleasantly 
than  "  Baronne." 

Remaining  alone,  M.  de  Tregars  threw  himself  upon 
a  seat.  Worn  out  by  the  emotions  of  the  day,  and  by  an 
extraordinary  contention  of  mind,  he  felt  thankful  for 
this  moment  of  respite,  which  permitted  him,  at  the  mo- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     429 

ment  of  a  decisive  step,  to  collect  all  his  energy  and  a\\ 
his  presence  of  mind. 

And  after  two  minutes  he  was  so  deeply  absorbed  in 
his  thoughts,  that  he  started,  like  a  man  suddenly 
aroused  from  his  sleep,  at  the  sound  of  an  opening  door. 
At  the  same  moment  he  heard  a  slight  exclamation  of 
surprise,  "  Ah !  " 

Instead  of  the  Baroness  de  Thaller,  it  was  her  daugh- 
ter, Mile.  Cesarine,  who  had  come  in. 

Stepping  forward  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  ac- 
knowledging by  a  familiar  gesture  M.  de  Tregars'  most 
respectful  bow, — 

"  You  should  warn  people,"  she  said.  "  I  came  here 
to  look  for  my  mother,  and  it  is  you  I  find.  Why,  you 
scared  me  to  death.  What  a  crack !  Princess  dear !  " 

And  taking  the  young  man's  hand,  and  pressing  it 
to  her  breast, — 

"  Feel,"  she  added,  "  how  my  heart  beats." 

Younger  than  Mile.  Gilberte,  Mile.  Cesarine  de 
Thaller  had  a  reputation  for  beauty  so  thoroughly  es- 
tablished, that  to  call  it  in  question  would  have  seemed 
a  crime  to  her  numerous  admirers.  And  really  she  was 
a  handsome  person.  Rather  tall  and  well  made,  she  had 
broad  hips,  the  waist  round  and  supple  as  a  steel  rod, 
and  a  magnificent  throat.  Her  neck  was,  perhaps,  a  little 
too  thick  and  too  short;  but  upon  her  robust  shoulders 
was  scattered  in  wild  ringlets  the  rebellious  hair  that 
escaped  from  her  comb.  She  was  a  blonde,  but  of  that 
reddish  blonde,  almost  as  dark  as  mahogany,  which  Ti- 
tian admired,  and  which  the  handsome  Venetians  ob- 
tained by  means  of  rather  repulsive  practices,  and  by  ex- 
posing themselves  to  the  noonday  sun  on  the  terraces  of 
their  palaces.  Her  complexion  had  the  gilded  hues  of 


430  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

amber.  Her  lips,  red  as  blood,  displayed  as  they  opened, 
teeth  of  dazzling  whiteness.  In  her  large  prominent 
eyes,  of  a  milky  blue,  like  the  Northern  skies,  laughed 
the  eternal  irony  of  a  soul  that  no  longer  has  faith  in 
any  thing.  More  anxious  of  her  fame  than  of  good 
taste,  she  wore  a  dress  of  doubtful  shade,  puffed  up  by 
means  of  an  extravagant  pannier,  and  buttoned  ob- 
liquely across  the  chest,  according  to  that  ridiculous  and 
ungraceful  style  invented  by  flat  or  humped  women. 

Throwing  herself  upon  a  chair,  and  placing  cavalierly 
one  foot  upon  another,  so  as  to  display  her  leg,  which 
was  admirable, — 

"  Do  you  know  that  it's  perfectly  stunning  to  see  you 
here?  "  she  said  to  M.  de  Tregars.  "  Just  imagine,  for  a 
moment,  what  a  face  the  Baron  Three  Francs  Sixty- 
eight  will  make  when  he  sees  you !  " 

It  was  her  father  whom  she  called  thus,  since  the  day 
when  she  had  discovered  that  there  was  a  German  coin 
called  thaler,  which  represents  three  francs  and  sixty- 
eight  centimes  in  French  currency. 

"  You  know,  I  suppose,"  she  went  on,  "  that  papa  has 
just  been  badly  stuck?" 

M.  de  Tregars  was  excusing  himself  in  vague  terms ; 
but  it  was  one  of  Mile.  Cesarine's  habits  never  to  listen 
to  the  answers  which  were  made  to  her  questions. 

"  Favoral,"  she  continued,  "  papa's  cashier,  has  just 
started  on  an  international  picnic.  Did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Very  little." 

"  An  old  fellow,  always  dressed  like  a  country  sexton, 
and  with  a  face  like  an  undertaker.  And  the  Baron 
Three  Francs  Sixty-eight,  an  old  bird,  was  fool  enough 
to  be  taken  in  by  him !  For  he  was  taken  in.  He  had 
a  face  like  a  man  whose  chimney  is  on  fire,  when  he 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  431 

came  to  tell  us,  mamma  and  myself,  that  Favoral  had 
gone  off  with  twelve  millions." 

"  And  has  he  really  carried  off  that  enormous  sum  ?  " 
"  Not  entire,  of  course,  because  it  was  not  since  day 
before  yesterday  only  that  he  began  digging  into  the 
Mutual  Credit's  pile.  There  were  years  that  this  venera- 
ble old  swell  was  leading  a  somewhat — variegated  ex- 
istence, in  company  with  rather — funny  ladies,  you 
know.  And  as  he  was  not  exactly  calculated  to  be 
adored  at  par,  why,  it  cost  papa's  stockholders  a  pretty 
lively  premium.  But,  anyhow,  he  must  have  carried  off 
a  handsome  nugget." 

And,  bouncing  to  the  piano,  she  began  an  accompani- 
ment loud  enough  to  crack  the  window-panes,  singing  at 
the  same  time  the  popular  refrain  of  the  "  Young  La- 
dies of  Pautin :  " — 

"  Cashier,  you've  got  the  bag ; 
Quick  on  your  little  nag, 
And  then,  ho,  ho,  for  Belgium ! " 

Any  one  but  Marius  de  Tregars  would  have  been 
doubtless  strangely  surprised  at  Mile,  de  Thaller's  man- 
ners. But  he  had  known  her  for  some  time  already :  he 
was  familiar  with  her  past  life,  her  habits,  her  tastes,  and 
her  pretensions.  Until  the  age  of  fifteen,  Mile.  Cesarine 
had  remained  shut  up  in  one  of  those  pleasant  Parisian 
boarding-schools,  where  young  ladies  are  initiated  into 
the  great  art  of  the  toilet,  and  from  which  they  emerge 
armed  with  the  gayest  theories,  knowing  how  to  see 
without  seeming  to  look,  and  to  lie  boldly  without  blush- 
ing; in  a  word,  ripe  for  society.  The  directress  of  the 
boarding-school,  a  lady  of  the  ton,  who  had  met  with  re- 
verses, and  who  was  a  good  deal  more  of  a  dressmaker 


432  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

than  a  teacher,  said  of  Mile.  Cesarine,  who  paid  her 
three  thousand  five  hundred  francs  a  year, — 

"  She  gives  the  greatest  hopes  for  the  future ;  and  I 
shall  certainly  make  a  superior  woman  of  her." 

But  the  opportunity  was  not  allowed  her.  The  Baron- 
ess de  Thaller  discovered,  one  morning,  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  her  to  live  without  her  daughter,  and  that 
her  maternal  heart  was  lacerated  by  a  separation  which 
was  against  the  sacred  laws  of  nature.  She  took  her 
home,  therefore,  declaring  that  nothing,  henceforth,  not 
even  her  marriage,  should  separate  them,  and  that  she 
should  finish  herself  the  education  of  the  dear  child. 
From  that  moment,  in  fact,  whoever  saw  the  Baroness 
de  Thaller  would  also  see  Mile.  Cesarine  following  in 
her  wake. 

A  girl  of  fifteen,  discreet  and  well-trained,  is  a  con- 
venient chaperon ;  a  chaperon  which  enables  a  woman  to 
show  herself  boldly  where  she  might  not  have  dared  to 
venture  alone.  In  presence  of  a  mother  followed  by  her 
daughter,  disconcerted  slander  hesitates,  and  dares  not 
speak. 

Under  the  pretext  that  Cesarine  was  still  but  a  child, 
and  of  no  consequence,  Mme.  de  Thaller  dragged  her 
everywhere, — to  the  bois  and  to  the  races,  visiting  and 
shopping,  to  balls  and  parties,  to  the  watering-places  and 
the  seashore,  to  the  restaurant,  and  to  all  the  "  first 
nights  "  at  the  Palais  Royal,  the  Bouffes,  the  Varietes, 
and  the  Delassements.  It  was,  therefore,  especially  at 
the  theatre,  that  the  education  of  Mile,  de  Thaller,  so 
happily  commenced,  had  received  the  finishing  touch.  At 
sixteen  she  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  repertoire 
of  the  genre  theatres,  imitated  Schneider  far  better  than 
ever  did  Silly,  and  sang  with  surprising  intonations  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  433 

astonishing  gestures  Blanche  d'Autigny's  successful 
moods,  and  Theresa's  most  wanton  verses. 

Between  times,  she  studied  the  fashion  papers,  and 
formed  her  style  in  reading  the  "  Vie  Parisienne,"  whose 
most  enigmatic  articles  had  no  allusions  sufficiently  ob- 
scure to  escape  her  penetration. 

She  learned  to  ride  on  horseback,  to  fence  and  to 
shoot,  and  distinguished  herself  at  pigeon-matches.  She 
kept  a  betting-book,  played  Trente  et  Quarante  at  Mo- 
naco ;  and  Baccarat  had  no  secrets  for  her.  At  Trouville 
she  astonished  the  natives  with  the  startling  novelty  of 
her  bathing-costumes ;  and,  when  she  found  herself  the 
centre  of  a  reasonable  circle  of  lookers-on,  she  threw 
herself  in  the  water  with  a  pluck  that  drew  upon  her  the 
applause  of  the  bathing-masters.  She  could  smoke  a 
cigarette,  empty  nearly  a  glass  of  champagne ;  and  once 
her  mother  was  obliged  to  bring  her  home,  and  put  her 
quick  to  bed,  because  she  had  insisted  upon  trying  absin- 
the, and  her  conversation  had  become  somewhat  too 
eccentric. 

Leading  such  a  life,  it  was  difficult  that  public  opinion 
should  always  spare  Mme.  and  Mile,  de  Thaller.  There 
were  sceptics  who  insinuated  that  this  steadfast  friend- 
ship between  mother  and  daughter  had  very  much  the 
appearance  of  the  association  of  two  women  bound  to- 
gether by  the  complicity  of  a  common  secret.  A  broker 
told  how,  one  evening,  or  one  night  rather,  for  it  was 
nearly  two  o'clock,  happening  to  pass  in  front  of  the 
Moulin-Rouge,  he  had  seen  the  Baroness  and  Mile. 
Cesarine  coming  out,  accompanied  by  a  gentleman,  to 
him  unknown,  but  who,  he  was  quite  sure,  was  not  the 
Baron  de  Thaller. 

A  certain  journey  which  mother  and  daughter  had  un- 


434  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

dertaken  in  the  heart  of  the  winter,  and  which  had  lasted 
not  less  than  two  months,  had  been  generally  attributed 
to  an  imprudence,  the  consequences  of  which  it  had  be- 
come impossible  to  conceal.  They  had  been  in  Italy,  they 
said  when  they  returned;  but  no  one  had  seen  them 
there.  Yet,  as  Mme.  and  Mile,  de  Thaller's  mode  of  life 
was,  after  all,  the  same  as  that  of  a  great  many  women 
who  passed  for  being  perfectly  proper,  as  there  was  no 
positive  or  palpable  fact  brought  against  them,  as  no 
name  was  mentioned,  many  people  shrugged  their  shoul- 
ders, and  replied, — 

"  Pure  slanders." 

And  why  not,  since  the  Baron  de  Thaller,  the  most  in- 
terested party,  held  himself  satisfied? 

To  the  ill-advised  friends  who  ventured  some  allusions 
to  the  public  rumors,  he  replied,  according  to  his  hu- 
mor,— 

"  My  daughter  can  play  the  mischief  generally,  if  she 
sees  fit.  As  I  shall  give  a  dowry  of  a  million,  she  will  al- 
ways find  a  husband." 

Or  else,  "  And  what  of  it  ?  Do  not  American  young 
ladies  enjoyed  unlimited  freedom?  Are  they  not  con- 
stantly seen  going  out  with  young  gentlemen,  or  walk- 
ing or  travelling  alone  ?  Are  they,  for  all  that,  less  virtu- 
ous than  our  girls,  who  are  kept  under  such  close  watch  ? 
Do  they  make  less  faithful  wives,  or  less  excellent  moth- 
ers? Hypocrisy  is  not  virtue." 

To  a  certain  extent,  the  Manager  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  was  right. 

Already  Mile,  de  Thaller  had  had  to  decide  upon  sev- 
eral quite  suitable  offers  of  marriage.  She  had  squarely 
refused  them  all. 

"  A  husband !  "  she  had  answered  each  time.  "  Thank 
you,  none  for  me.  I  have  good  enough  teeth  to  eat  up 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  435 

my  dowry  myself.   Later,  we'll  see, — when  I've  cut  my 
wisdom  teeth,  and  I  am  tired  of  my  bachelor  life." 

She  did  not  seem  near  getting  tired  of  it,  though  she 
pretended  that  she  had  no  more  illusions,  was  thor- 
oughly blasee,  had  exhausted  every  sensation,  and  that 
life  henceforth  had  no  surprise  in  reserve  for  her.  Her 
reception  of  M.  de  Tregars  was,  therefore,  one  of  Mile. 
Cesarine's  least  eccentricities,  as  was  also  that  sudden 
fancy  to  apply  to  the  situation  one  of  the  most  idiotic 
rondos  of  her  repertoires: — 


'  Cashier,  you've  got  the  bag ; 
Quick  on  your  little  nag." 


Neither  did  she  spare  him  a  single  verse;  and,  when 
she  stopped, — 

"  I  see  with  pleasure,"  said  M.  de  Tregars,  "  that  the 
embezzlement  of  which  your  father  has  just  been  the 
victim  does  not  in  any  way  offend  your  good  humor." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Would  you  have  me  cry,"  she  said,  "  because  the 
stockholders  of  the  Baron  Three  Francs  Sixty-eight 
have  been  swindled?  Console  yourself:  they  are  ac- 
customed to  it." 

And,  as  M.  de  Tregars  made  no  answer, — 

"  And  in  all  that,"  she  went  on,  "  I  see  no  one  to  pity 
except  the  wife  and  daughter  of  that  old  stick  Favoral." 

"  They  are,  indeed,  much  to  be  pitied." 

"  They  say  that  the  mother  is  a  good  old  thing." 

"  She  is  an  excellent  person." 

"  And  the  daughter  ?  Costeclar  was  crazy  about  her 
once.  He  made  eyes  like  a  carp  in  love,  as  he  told  us, 
to  mamma  and  myself,  '  She  is  an  angel,  mesdames,  an 
angel !  And  when  I  have  given  her  a  little  chic! '  Now 
tell  me,  is  she  really  as  good  looking  as  all  that  ?  ' ' 


436  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  She  is  quite  good  looking." 

"  Better  looking  than  me?  " 

"  It  is  not  the  same  style,  mademoiselle." 

Mile,  de  Thaller  had  stopped  singing;  but  she  had 
not  left  the  piano.  Half  turned  towards  M.  de  Tregars, 
she  ran  her  fingers  listlessly  over  the  keys,  striking  a 
note  here  and  there,  as  if  to  punctuate  her  sentences. 

"  Ah,  how  nice !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  and,  above  all, 
how  gallant !  Really,  if  you  venture  often  on  such  dec- 
larations, mothers  would  be  very  wrong  to  trust  you 
alone  with  their  daughters." 

"  You  did  not  understand  me  right,  mademoiselle." 

"  Perfectly  right,  on  the  contrary.  I  asked  you  if  I 
was  better  looking  than  Mile.  Favoral ;  and  you  replied 
to  me,  that  it  was  not  the  same  style." 

"  It  is  because,  mademoiselle,  there  is  indeed  no  possi- 
ble comparison  between  you,  who  are  a  wealthy  heiress, 
and  whose  life  is  a  perpetual  enchantment,  and  a  poor 
girl,  very  humble,  and  very  modest,  who  rides  in  the 
omnibus,  and  who  makes  her  dresses  herself." 
A  contemptuous  smile  contracted  Mile.  Cesarine's  lips. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  she  interrupted.  "  Men  have  such  funny 
tastes !  " 

And,  turning  around  suddenly,  she  began  another 
rondo,  no  less  famous  than  the  first,  and  borrowed,  this 
time,  from  the  third  act  of  the  Petites-Blanchisseuses: — 

"What  matters  the  quality? 

Beauty  alone  takes  the  prize: 
Women  before  man  must  rise, 
And  claim  perfect  equality." 

Very  attentively  M.  de  Tregars  was  observing  her. 
He  had  not  been  the  dupe  of  the  great  surprise  she  had 
manifested  when  she  found  him  in  the  little  parlor. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  437 

"  She  knew  I  was  here,"  he  thought ;  "  and  it  is  her 
mother  who  has  sent  her  to  me.  But  why  ?  and  for  what 
purpose  ?  " 

"  With  all  that/'  she  resumed,  "  I  see  the  sweet  Mme. 
Favoral  and  her  modest  daughter  in  a  terribly  tight 
place.  What  a  '  bust/  marquis !  " 

"  They  have  a  great  deal  of  courage,  mademoiselle." 

"  Naturally.  But,  what  is  better,  the  daughter  has  a 
splendid  voice :  at  least,  so  her  professor  told  Costeclar. 
Why  should  she  not  go  on  the  stage?  Actresses  make 
lots  of  money,  you  know.  Papa'll  help  her,  if  she 
wishes.  He  has  a  great  deal  of  influence  in  the  theatres, 
papa  has." 

"  Mme.  and  Mile.  Favoral  have  friends*" 

"  Ah,  yes !  Costeclar." 

"  Others  besides." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  this  one 
will  do  to  begin  with.  He  is  gallant,  Costeclar,  ex- 
tremely gallant,  and,  moreover,  generous  as  a  lord.  Why 
should  he  not  offer  to  that  youthful  and  timid  damsel  a 
nice  little  position  in  mahogany  and  rosewood?  That 
way,  we  should  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her  around 
the  lake." 

And  she  began  singing  again,  with  a  slight  varia- 
tion : — 

"  Manon,  who,  before  the  war, 
Carried  clothes  for  a  living, 
Now  for  her  gains  is  trusting 
To  that  insane  Costeclar." 

"  Ah,  that  big  red-headed  girl  is  terribly  provoking !  " 
thought  M.  de  Tregars. 

But,  as  he  did  not  as  yet  understand  very  clearly  what 
she  wished  to  come  to,  he  kept  on  his  guard,  and  re- 
mained cold  as  marble. 


438  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Already  she  had  again  turned  towards  him. 

"  What  a  face  you  are  making !  "  she  said.  "  Are  you 
jealous  of  the  fiery  Costeclar,  by  chance?  " 

"  No,  mademoiselle,  no !  " 

"  Then,  why  don't  you  want  him  to  succeed  in  his 
love?  But  he  will,  you'll  see!  Five  hundred  francs  on 
Costeclar!  Do  you  take  it?  No?  I  am  sorry.  It's 
twenty-five  napoleons  lost  for  me.  I  know  very  well 
that  Mile. — what's  her  name  ?  " 

"  Gilberte." 

"  Halloo !  a  nice  name  for  a  cashier's  daughter !  I 
am  aware  that  she  once  sent  that  poor  Costeclar  and  his 
offer  to — Chaillot.  But  she  had  resources  then;  whilst 
now —  It's  stupid  as  it  can  be ;  but  people  have  to  eat !  " 

"  There  are  still  women,  mademoiselle,  capable  of 
starving  to  death." 

M.  de  Tregars  now  felt  satisfied.  It  seemed  evident 
to  him  that  they  had  somehow  got  wind  of  his  inten- 
tions; that  Mile,  de  Thaller  had  been  sent  to  feel  the 
ground;  and  that  she  only  attacked  Mile.  Gilberte  in 
order  to  irritate  him,  and  compel  him,  in  a  moment  of 
anger,  to  declare  himself. 

"  Bash !  "  she  said,  "  Mile.  Favoral  is  like  all  the  oth- 
ers. If  she  had  to  select  between  the  amiable  Costeclar 
and  a  charcoal  furnace,  it  is  not  the  furnace  she  would 
take." 

At  all  times,  Marius  de  Tregars  disliked  Mile.  Cesar- 
ine  to  a  supreme  degree;  but  at  this  moment,  without 
the  pressing  desire  he  had  to  see  the  Baron  and  Baroness 
de  Thaller,  he  would  have  withdrawn. 

"  Believe  me,  mademoiselle,"  he  uttered  coldly. 
"  Spare  a  poor  girl  stricken  by  a  most  cruel  misfortune. 
Worse  might  happen  to  you." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  439 

"  To  me !  And  what  the  mischief  do  you  suppose  can 
happen  me  ?  " 

"Who  knows?" 

She  started  to  her  feet  so  violently,  that  she  upset  the 
piano-stool. 

"  Whatever  it  may  be,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  say  in  ad- 
vance, I  am  glad !  " 

And  as  M.  de  Tregars  turned  his  head  in  some  sur- 
prise,— 

"  Yes,  I  am  glad !  "  she  repeated,  "  because  it  would 
be  a  change ;  and  I  am  sick  of  the  life  I  lead.  Yes,  sick 
to  be  eternally  and  invariably  happy  of  that  same  dreary 
happiness.  And  to  think  that  there  are  idiots  who  be- 
lieve that  I  amuse  myself,  and  who  envy  my  fate!  To 
think,  that,  when  I  ride  through  the  streets,  I  hear  girls 
exclaim,  whilst  looking  at  me,  '  Isn't  she  lucky  ?  '  Little 
fools !  I'd  like  to  see  them  in  my  place.  They  live,  they 
do.  Their  pleasures  are  not  all  alike.  They  have  anxi- 
eties and  hopes,  ups  and  downs,  hours  of  rain  and  hours 
of  sunshine ;  whilst  I — always  dead  calm !  the  barometer 
always  at  '  Set  fair.'  What  a  bore !  Do  you  know  what 
I  did  to-day  ?  Exactly  the  same  thing  as  yesterday ;  and 
to-morrow  I'll  do  the  same  thing  as  to-day. 

"  A  good  dinner  is  a  good  thing ;  but  always  the  same 
dinner,  without  extras  or  additions — pouah !  Too  many 
truffles.  I  want  some  corned  beef  and  cabbage.  I  know 
the  bill  of  fare  by  heart,  you  see.  In  winter,  theatres  and 
balls ;  in  summer,  races  and  the  seashore ;  summer  and 
winter,  shopping,  rides  to  the  bois,  calls,  trying  dresses, 
perpetual  adoration  by  mother's  friends,  all  of  them 
brilliant  and  gallant  fellows  to  whom  the  mere  thought 
of  my  dowry  gives  the  jaundice.  Excuse  me,  if  I  yawn : 
I  am  thinking  of  their  conversations. 


440  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  And  to  think,"  she  went  on,  "  that  such  will  be  my 
existence  until  I  make  up  my  mind  to  take  a  husband ! 
For  I'll  have  to  come  to  it  too.  The  Baron  Three  Sixty- 
eight  will  present  to  me  some  sort  of  a  swell,  attracted  by 
my  money.  I'll  answer,  '  I'd  just  as  soon  have  him  as 
any  other ; '  and  he  will  be  admitted  to  the  honor  of  pay- 
ing his  attentions  to  me.  Every  morning  he  will  send 
me  a  splendid  bouquet :  every  evening,  after  bank-hours, 
he'll  come  along  with  fresh  kid  gloves  and  a  white  vest. 
During  the  afternoon,  he  and  papa  will  pull  each  other's 
hair  out  on  the  subject  of  the  dowry.  At  last  the  happy 
day  will  arrive.  Can't  you  see  it  from  here  ?  Mass  with 
music,  dinner,  ball.  The  Baron  Three  Sixty-eight  will 
not  spare  me  a  single  ceremony.  The  marriage  of  the 
manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  must  certainly  be  an  ad- 
vertisement. The  papers  will  publish  the  names  of  the 
bridesmaids  and  of  the  guests. 

"  To  be  sure,  papa  will  have  a  face  a  yard  long,  be- 
cause he  will  have  been  compelled  to  pay  the  dowry  the 
day  before.  Mamma  will  be  all  upset  at  the  idea  of  be- 
coming a  grandmother.  The  bridegroom  will  be  in  a 
wretched  humor,  because  his  boots  will  be  too  tight ;  and 
I'll  look  like  a  goose,  because  I'll  be  dressed  in  white; 
and  white  is  a  stupid  color,  which  is  not  at  all  becoming 
to  me.  Charming  family  gathering,  isn't  it  ?  Two  weeks 
later,  my  husband  will  be  sick  of  me,  and  I'll  be  dis- 
gusted with  him.  After  a  month,  we'll  be  at  daggers' 
points.  He'll  go  back  to  his  club  and  his  mistresses ;  and 
I — I  shall  have  conquered  the  right  to  go  out  alone ;  and 
I'll  begin  again  going  to  the  bois,  to  balls,  to  races, 
wherever  my  mother  goes.  I'll  spend  an  enormous 
amount  of  money  on  my  dress,  and  I'll  make  debts  which 
papa  will  pay." 

Though  any  thing  might  be  expected  of  Mile.  Cesar. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  441 

ine,  still  M.  de  Tregars  seemed  visibly  astonished.  And 
she,  laughing  at  his  surprise, — 

"  That's  the  invariable  programme,"  she  went  on ; 
"  and  that's  why  I  say  I'm  glad  at  the  idea  of  a  change, 
whatever  it  may  be.  You  find  fault  with  me  for  not  pity- 
ing Mile.  Gilberte.  How  could  I,  since  I  envy  her  ?  She 
is  happy,  because  her  future  is  not  settled,  laid  out,  fixed 
in  advance.  She  is  poor ;  but  she  is  free.  She  is  twenty  ; 
she  is  pretty ;  she  has  an  admirable  voice ;  she  can  go  on 
the  stage  to-morrow,  and  be,  before  six  months,  one  of 
the  pet  actresses  of  Paris.  What  a  life  then !  Ah,  that 
is  the  one  I  dream,  the  one  I  would  have  selected,  had  I 
been  mistress  of  my  destiny." 

But  she  was  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  the  opening 
door. 

The  Baroness  de  Thaller  appeared.  As  she  was,  im- 
mediately after  dinner,  to  go  to  the  opera,  and  after- 
wards to  a  party  given  by  the  Viscountess  de  Bois  d'Ar- 
don,  she  was  in  full  dress.  She  wore  a  dress,  cut  auda- 
ciously low  in  the  neck,  of  very  light  gray  satin, 
trimmed  with  bands  of  cherry-colored  silk  edged  with 
lace.  In  her  hair,  worn  high  over  her  head,  she  had  a 
bunch  of  fuchsias,  the  flexible  stems  of  which,  fastened 
by  a  large  diamond  star,  trailed  down  to  her  very  shoul- 
ders, white  and  smooth  as  marble. 

But,  though  she  forced  herself  to  smile,  her  counte- 
nance was  not  that  of  festive  days ;  and  the  glance  which 
she  cast  upon  her  daughter  and  Marius  de  Tregars  was 
laden  with  threats.  In  a  voice  of  which  she  tried  in  vain 
to  control  the  emotion, — 

"  How  very  kind  of  you,  marquis,"  she  began,  "  to  re- 
spond so  soon  to  my  invitation  of  this  morning!  I  am 
really  distressed  to  have  kept  you  waiting;  but  I  was 
dressing.  After  what  has  happened  to  M.  de  Thaller,  it 


442  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

is  absolutely  indispensable  that  I  should  go  out,  show 
myself :  otherwise  our  enemies  will  be  going  around  to- 
morrow, saying  everywhere  that  I  am  in  Belgium,  pre- 
paring lodgings  for  my  husband." 

And,  suddenly  changing  her  tone, — 

"  But  what  was  that  madcap  Cesarine  telling  you  ?  " 
she  asked. 

It  was  with  a  profound  surprise  that  M.  de  Tregars 
discovered  that  the  entente  cordide  which  he  suspected 
between  the  mother  and  daughter  did  not  exist,  at  least 
at  this  moment. 

Veiling  under  a  jesting  tone  the  strange  conjectures 
which  the  unexpected  discovery  aroused  within  him, — 

"  Mile.  Cesarine,"  he  replied, "  who  is  much  to  be 
pitied,  was  telling  me  all  her  troubles." 

She  interrupted  him. 

"  Do  not  take  the  trouble  to  tell  a  story,  M.  le  Mar- 
quis," she  said.  "  Mamma  knows  it  as  well  as  yourself ; 
for  she  was  listening  at  the  door." 

"  Cesarine !  "  exclaimed  Mme.  de  Thaller. 

"  And,  if  she  came  in  so  suddenly,  it  is  because  she 
thought  it  was  fully  time  to  cut  short  my  confidences." 

The  face  of  the  baroness  became  crimson. 

"  The  child  is  mad !  "  she  said. 

The  child  burst  out  laughing. 

"  That's  my  way,"  she  went  on.  "  You  should  not 
have  sent  me  here  by  chance,  and  against  my  wish.  You 
made  me  do  it:  don't  complain.  You  were  sure  that  I 
had  but  to  appear,  and  M.  de  Tregars  would  fall  at  my 
feet.  I  appeared,  and — you  saw  the  effect  through  the 
keyhole,  didn't  you  ?  " 

Her  features  contracted,  her  eyes  flashing,  twisting 
her  lace  handkerchief  between  her  fingers  loaded  with 
rings,— 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  443 

"  It  is  unheard  of,"  said  Mme.  de  Thaller.  "  She  has 
certainly  lost  her  head." 

Dropping  her  mother  an  ironical  courtesy, — 

"  Thanks  for  the  compliment !  "  said  the  young  lady. 
"  Unfortunately,  I  never  was  more  completely  in  pos- 
session of  all  the  good  sense  I  may  boast  of  than  I  am 
now,  dear  mamma.  What  were  you  telling  me  a  moment 
since  ?  '  Run,  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  is  coming  to  ask 
your  hand:  it's  all  settled.'  And  what  did  I  answer? 
'No  use  to  trouble  myself:  if,  instead  of  one  million, 
papa  were  to  give  me  two,  four  millions,  indeed  all  the 
millions  paid  by  France  to  Prussia,  M.  de  Tregars 
would  not  have  me  for  a  wife.'  " 

And,  looking  Marius  straight  in  the  face, — 

"  Am  I  not  right,  M.  le  Marquis?  "  she  asked.  "  And 
isn't  it  a  fact  that  you  wouldn't  have  me  at  any  price? 
Come,  now,  your  hand  upon  your  heart,  answer." 

M.  de  Tregars'  situation  was  somewhat  embarrassing 
between  these  two  women,  whose  anger  was  equal, 
though  it  manifested  itself  in  a  different  way.  Evi- 
dently it  was  a  discussion  begun  before,  which  was  now 
continued  in  his  presence. 

"  I  think,  madamoiselle,"  he  began,  "  that  you  have 
been  slandering  yourself  gratuitously." 

"  Oh,  no !  I  swear  it  to  you,"  she  replied ;  "  and,  if 
mamma  had  not  happened  in,  you  would  have  heard 
much  more.  But  that  was  not  an  answer." 

And,  as  M.  de  Tregars  said  nothing,  she  turned  to- 
wards1 the  baroness, — 

"  Ah,  ah !  you  see,"  she  said.  "  Who  was  crazy, — 
you,  or  I  ?  Ah !  you  imagine  here  that  money  is  every 
thing,  that  every  thing  is  for  sale,  and  that  every  thing 
can  be  bought.  Well,  no!  There  are  still  men,  who, 
for  all  the  gold  in  the  world,  would  not  give  their  name 


444  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  Cesarine  de  Thaller.     It  is  strange ;  but  it  is  so,  dear 
mamma,  and  we  must  make  up  our  mind  to  it."  , 

Then  turning  towards  Marius,  and  bearing  upon  each 
syllable,  as  if  afraid  that  the  allusion  might  escape 
him, — 

"  The  men  of  whom  I  speak,"  she  added,  "  marry 
the  girls  who  can  starve  to  death." 

Knowing  her  daughter  well  enough  to  be  aware  that 
she  could  not  impose  silence  upon  her,  the  Baroness  de 
Thaller  had  dropped  upon  a  chair.  She  was  trying 
hard  to  appear  indifferent  to  what  her  daughter  was 
saying;  but  at  every  moment  a  threatening  gesture,  or 
a  hoarse  exclamation,  betrayed  the  storm  that  raged 
within  her. 

"  Go,  on,  poor  foolish  child  I  "  she  said,  — "  go  on !  " 

And  she  did  go  on. 

"  Finally,  were  M.  de  Tregars  willing  to  have  me,  I 
would  refuse  him  myself,  because,  then  " — 

A  fugitive  blush  colored  her  cheeks,  her  bold  eyes 
vacillated,  and,  dropping  her  voice, — 

"  Because,  then,"  she  added,  "  he  would  no  longer  be 
what  he  is;  because  I  feel  that  fatally  I  shall  despise 
the  husband  whom  papa  will  buy  for  me.  And,  if  I 
came  here  to  expose  myself  to  an  affront  which  I  fore- 
saw, it  is  because  I  wanted  to  make  sure  of  a  fact  of 
which  a  word  of  Costeclar,  a  few  days  ago,  had  given 
me  an  idea, — of  a  fact  which  you  do  not,  perhaps,  sus- 
pect, dear  mother,  despite  your  astonishing  perspicacity. 
I  wanted  to  find  out  M.  de  Tregars'  secret ;  and  I  have 
found  it  out." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  come  to  the  Thaller  mansion  with 
a  plan  well  settled  in  advance.  He  had  pondered  long 
before  deciding  what  he  would  do,  and  what  he  would 
say,  and  how  he  would  begin  the  decisive  struggle.  What 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  445 

had  taken  place  showed  him  the  idleness  of  his  conjec- 
tures, and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  upset  his  plans. 

To  abandon  himself  to  the  chances  of  the  hour,  and  to 
make  the  best  possible  use  of  them,  was  now  the  wisest 
thing  to  do. 

"  Give  me  credit,  mademoiselle,"  he  uttered,  "  for 
sufficient  penetration  to  have  perfectly  well  discerned 
your  intentions.  There  was  no  need  of  artifice,  because 
I  have  nothing  to  conceal.  You  had  but  to  question 
me,  I  would  have  answered  you  frankly,  '  Yes,  it  is  true 
I  love  Mile.  Gilberte;  and  before  a  month  she  will  be 
Marquise  de  Tregars.'  " 

Mme.  de  Thaller,  at  those  words,  had  started  to  her 
feet,  pushing  back  her  arm-chair  so  violently,  that  it 
rolled  all  the  way  to  the  wall. 

"  What !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  you  marry  Gilberte  Fa- 
vor al, — you !  " 

"  I— yes." 

"  The  daughter  of  a  defaulting  cashier,  a  dishonored 
man  whom  justice  pursues  and  the  galleys  await!  " 

"  Yes !  "  And  in  an  accent  that  caused  a  shiver  to 
run  over  the  white  shoulders  of  Mme.  de  Thaller, — 

"  Whatever  may  have  been,"  he  uttered,  "  Vincent 
Favoral's  crime;  whether  he  has  or  has  not  stolen,  the 
twelve  millions  which  are  wanting  from  the  funds  of 
the  Mutual  Credit;  whether  he  is  alone  guilty,  or  has 
accomplices;  whether  he  be  a  knave,  or  a  fool,  an  im- 
postor, or  a  dupe, — Mile.  Gilberte  is  not  responsible." 

"  You  know  the  Favoral  family,  then  ?  " 

"  Enough  to  make  their  cause  henceforth  my  own." 

The  agitation  of  the  baroness  was  so  great,  that  she 
did  not  even  attempt  to  conceal  it. 

"  A  nobody's  daughter !  "  she  said. 

"  I  love  her." 


446  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Without  a  sou !  " 

Mile.  Cesarine  made  a  superb  gesture. 

"  Why,  that's  the  very  reason  why  a  man  may  marry 
her !  "  she  exclaimed.  And,  holding  out  her  hand  to 
M.  de  Tregars, — 

"  What  you  do  here  is  well,"  she  added,  "  very 
well." 

There  was  a  wild  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  baroness. 

"  Mad,  unhappy  child !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If  your 
father  should  hear !  " 

"  And  who,  then,  would  report  our  conversation  to 
him  ?  M.  de  Tregars  ?  He  would  not  do  such  a  thing. 
You  ?  You  dare  not." 

Drawing  herself  up  to  her  fullest  height,  her  breast 
swelling  with  anger,  her  head  thrown  back,  her  eyes 
flashing, — 

"  Cesarine,"  ordered  Mme.  de  Thaller,  her  arm  ex- 
tended towards  the  door, — "  Cesarine,  leave  the  room : 
I  command  you." 

But,  motionless  in  her  place,  the  girl  cast  upon  her 
mother  a  look  of  defiance. 

"  Come,  calm  yourself,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  crush- 
ing irony,  "  or  you'll  spoil  your  complexion  for  the  rest 
of  the  evening.  Do  I  complain  ?  do  I  get  excited  ?  And 
yet  whose  fault  is  it,  if  honor  makes  it  a  duty  for  me  to 
cry  '  Beware ! '  to  an  honest  man  who  wishes  to  marry 
me  ?  That  Gilberte  should  get  married ;  that  she  should 
be  very  happy,  have  many  children,  darn  her  husband's 
stockings,  and  skim  her  pot-au-feu, — that  is  her  part  in 
life.  Ours,  dear  mother, — that  which  you  have  taught 
me, — is  to  laugh  and  have  fun,  all  the  time,  night  and 
day,  till  death." 

A  footman  who  came  in  interrupted  her.  Handing 
a  card  to  Mme.  de  Thaller, — 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  447 

"  The  gentleman  who  gave  it  to  me,"  he  said,  "  is  in 
the  large  parlor." 

The  baroness  had  become  very  pale. 

"  Oh ! "  she  said  turning  the  card  between  her  fin- 
gers—"oh!"— 

Then  suddenly  she  ran  out  exclaiming,— 

"  I'll  be  back  directly." 

An  embarrassing,  painful  silence  followed,  as  it  was 
inevitable  that  it  would,  the  Baroness  de  Thaller's  pre- 
cipitate departure. 

Mile.  Cesarine  had  approached  the  mantel-piece.  She 
was  leaning  her  elbow  upon  it,  her  forehead  on  her  hand, 
all  palpitating  and  excited.  Intimidated  for,  perhaps, 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  turned  away  her  great  blue 
eyes,  as  if  afraid  that  they  should  betray  a  reflex  of  her 
thoughts. 

As  to  M.  de  Tregars,  he  remained  at  his  place,  not 
having  one  whit  too  much  of  that  power  of  self-control, 
which  is  acquired  by  a  long  experience  of  the  world,  to 
conceal  his  impressions.  If  he  had  a  fault,  it  was  cer- 
tainly not  self-conceit ;  but  Mile,  de  Thaller  had  been 
too  explicit  and  too  clear  to  leave  him  a  doubt.  All  she 
had  said  could  be  comprised  in  one  sentence, — 

"  My  parents  were  in  hopes  that  I  would  become  your 
wife :  I  had  judged  you  well  enough  to  understand  their 
error.  Precisely  because  I  love  you,  I  acknowledge 
myself  unworthy  of  you ;  and  I  wish  you  to  know,  that 
if  you  had  asked  mv  hand, — the  hand  of  a  girl  who  has 
a  dowry  of  a  million. — I  would  have  ceased  to  esteem 
you." 

That  such  a  feeling  should  have  budded  and  blos- 
somed in  Mile.  Cesarine's  soul,  withered  as  it  was  by 
vanity,  and  blunted  by  pleasure,  was  almost  a  miracle. 
It  was,  at  any  rate,  an  astonishing  proof  of  love  which 


448  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

she  gave ;  and  Marius  de  Tregars  would  not  have  been 
a  man,  if  he  had  not  been  deeply  moved  by  it. 

Suddenly, — 

"  What  a  miserable  wretch  I  am ! ''  she  uttered. 

"  You  mean  unhappy,"  said  M.  de  Tregars  gently. 

"  What  can  you  think  of  my  sincerity  ?  You  must, 
doubtless,  find  it  strange,  impudent,  grotesque." 

He  lifted  his  hand  in  protest;  for  she  gave  him  no 
time  to  put  in  a  word. 

"  And  yet,"  she  went  on,  "  this  is  not  the  first  time 
that  I  am  assailed  by  sinister  ideas,  and  that  I  feel 
ashamed  of  myself.  I  was  convinced  once  that  this  mad 
existence  of  mine  is  the  only  enviable  one,  the  only  one 
that  can  give  happiness.  And  now  I  discover  that  it  is 
not  the  right  path  which  I  have  taken,  or,  rather,  which 
I  have  been  made  to  take.  And  there  is  no  possibility 
of  retracing  my  steps." 

She  turned  pale,  and,  in  an  accent  of  gloomy  des- 
pair,— 

"  Every  thing  fails  me,"  she  said.  "  It  seems  as 
though  I  were  rolling  into  a  bottomless  abyss,  without 
a  branch  or  a  tuft  of  grass  to  cling  to.  Around  me, 
emptiness,  night,  chaos.  I  am  not  yet  twenty;  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  thousands  of  years,  and 
exhausted  every  sensation.  I  have  seen  every  thing, 
learned  every  thing,  experienced  every  thing;  and  I 
am  tired  of  every  thing,  and  satiated  and  nauseated. 
You  see  me  looking  like  a  brainless  hoyden.  I  sing, 
I  jest,  I  talk  slang.  My  gayety  surprises  everybody. 
In  reality,  I  am  literally  tired  to  death.  What  I  feel  I 
could  not  express ;  there  are  no  words  to  render  abso- 
lute disgust.  Sometimes  I  say  to  myself,  '  It  is  stupid 
to  be  so  sad.  What  do  you  need  ?  Are  you  not  young, 
handsome,  rich  ? '  But  I  must  need  something,  or  else 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  449 

I  would  not  be  thus  agitated,  nervous,  anxious,  unable 
to  stay  in  one  place,  tormented  by  confused  aspirations, 
and  by  desires  which  I  cannot  formulate.  What  can  I 
do  ?  Seek  oblivion  in  pleasure  and  dissipation  ?  I  try, 
and  I  succeed  for  an  hour  or  so ;  but  the  re-action  comes, 
and  the  effect  vanishes,  like  froth  from  champagne.  The 
lassitude  returns;  and,  whilst  outwardly  I  continue  to 
laugh,  I  shed  within  tears  of  blood  which  scald  my 
heart.  What  is  to  become  of  me,  without  a  memory  in 
the  past,  or  a  hope  in  the  future,  upon  which  to  rest  my 
thought?" 

And  bursting  into  tears, — 

"  Oh,  I  am  wretchedly  unhappy !  "  she  exclaimed ; 
"  and  I  wish  I  was  dead." 

M.  de  Tregars  rose,  feeling  more  deeply  moved  than 
he  would,  perhaps,  have  liked  to  acknowledge. 

"  I  was  laughing  at  you  only  a  moment  since,"  he  said 
in  his  grave  and  vibrating  voice.  "  Pardon  me,  ma- 
demoiselle. It  is  with  the  utmost  sincerity,  and  from 
the  innermost  depths  of  my  soul,  that  I  pity  you." 

She  was  looking  at  him  with  an  air  of  timid  doubt, 
big  tears  trembling  between  her  long  eyelashes. 

"Honest?"  she  asked. 

"  Upon  my  honor." 

"  And  you  will  not  go  with  too  poor  an  opinion  of 
me?" 

"  I  shall  retain  the  firm  belief  that  when  you  were 
yet  but  a  child,  you  were  spoiled  by  insane  theories." 

Gently  and  sadly  she  was  passing  her  hand  over  her 
forehead. 

"  Yes,  that's  it,"  she  murmured.  "  How  could  I  re- 
sist examples  coming  from  certain  persons?  How  could 
I  help  becoming  intoxicated  when  I  saw  myself,  as  it 
were,  in  a  cloud  of  incense  when  I  heard  nothing  but 


450  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

praises  and  applause?  And  then  there  is  the  money, 
which  depraves  when  it  comes  in  a  certain  way." 

She  ceased  to  speak;  but  the  silence  was  soon  again 
broken  by  a  slight  noise,  which  came  from  the  adjoining 
room. 

Mechanically,  M.  de  Tregars  looked  around  him.  The 
little  parlor  in  which  he  found  himself  was  divided  from 
the  main  drawing-room  of  the  house  by  a  tall  and  broad 
door,  closed  only  by  heavy  curtains,  which  had  remained 
partially  drawn.  Now,  such  was  the  disposition  of  the 
mirrors  in  the  two  rooms,  that  M.  de  Tregars  could  see 
almost  the  whole  of  the  large  one  reflected  in  the  mir- 
ror over  the  mantelpiece  of  the  little  parlor.  A  man 
of  suspicious  appearance,  and  wearing  wretched  clothes, 
was  standing  in  it. 

And,  the  more  M.  de  Tregars  examined  him,  the  more 
it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  already  seen  somewhere 
that  uneasy  countenance,  that  anxious  glance,  that 
wicked  smile  flitting  upon  flat  and  thin  lips. 

But  suddenly  the  man  bowed  very  low.  It  was  prob- 
able that  Mme.  de  Thaller,  who  had  gone  around 
through  the  hall  to  reach  the  grand  parlor,  must  be  com- 
ing in;  and  in  fact  she  almost  immediately  appeared 
within  the  range  of  the  glass.  She  seemed  much  agi- 
tated ;  and,  with  a  finger  upon  her  lips,  she  was  recom- 
mending to  the  man  to  be  prudent,  and  to  speak  low. 
It  was  therefore  in  a  whisper,  and  such  a  low  whisper 
that  not  even  a  vague  murmur  reached  the  little  parlor, 
that  the  man  uttered  a  few  words. 

They  were  such  that  the  baroness  started  back  as  if 
she  had  seen  a  precipice  yawning  at  her  feet ;  and  by 
this  action  it  was  easy  to  understand  that  she  must  have 
said, — 

"  Is  it  possible?" 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  451 

With  the  voice  which  still  could  not  be  heard,  but 
with  a  gesture  which  could  be  seen,  the  man  evidently 
replied, — 

"  It  is  so,  I  assure  you !  " 

And  leaning  towards  Mme.  de  Thaller,  who  seemed 
in  no  wise  shocked  to  feel  this  repulsive  personage's 
lips  almost  touching  her  ear,  he  began  speaking  to  her. 

The  surprise  which  this  species  of  vision  caused  to 
M.  de  Tregars  was  great,  but  did  not  keep  him  from 
reflecting  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  this  scene.  How 
came  this  suspicious-looking  man  to  have  obtained  ac- 
cess, without  difficulty,  into  the  grand  parlor?  Why 
had  the  baroness,  on  receiving  his  card,  turned  whiter 
than  the  laces  on  her  dress  ?  What  news  had  he  brought, 
which  had  made  such  a  deep  impression  ?  What  was  he 
saying  that  seemed  at  once  to  terrify  and  to  delight 
Mme.  de  Thaller? 

But  soon  she  interrupted  the  man,  beckoned  to  him 
to  wait,  disappeared  for  a  minute ;  and,  when  she  came 
in  again,  she  held  in  her  hand  a  package  of  bank-notes, 
which  she  began  counting  upon  the  parlor-table. 

She  counted  twenty-five,  which,  so  far  as  M.  de  Tre- 
gars could  judge,  must  have  been  hundred-franc  notes. 
The  man  took  them,  counted  them  over,  slipped  them 
into  his  pocket  with  a  grin  of  satisfaction,  and  then 
seemed  disposed  to  retire. 

The  baroness  detained  him,  however;  and  it  was  she 
now,  who,  leaning  towards  him,  commenced  to  explain 
to  him,  or  rather,  as  far  as  her  attitude  showed,  to  ask 
him  something.  It  must  have  been  a  serious  matter; 
for  he  shook  his  head,  and  moved  his  arms,  as  if  he 
meant  to  say,  "  The  deuse,  the  deuse ! " 

The  strangest  suspicions  flashed  across  M.de  Tregars' 
mind.  What  was  that  bargain  to  which  the  mirror  made 


452  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

him  thus  an  accidental  witness  ?  For  it  was  a  bargain : 
there  could  be  no  mistake  about  it.  The  man,  having 
received  a  mission,  had  fulfilled  it,  and  had  come  to  re- 
ceive the  price  of  it.  And  now  a  new  commission  was 
offered  to  him. 

But  M.  de  Tregars'  attention  was  now  called  off  by 
Mile.  Cesarine.  Shaking  off  the  torpor  which  for  a  mo- 
ment had  overpowered  her, — 

"  But  why  fret  and  worry  ?  "  she  said,  answering, 
rather,  the  objections  of  her  own  mind  than  addressing 
herself  to  M.  de  Tregars.  "  Things  are  just  as  they  are, 
and  I  cannot  undo  them. 

"  Ah !  if  the  mistakes  of  life  were  like  soiled  clothes, 
which  are  allowed  to  accumulate  in  a  wardrobe,  and 
which  are  all  sent  out  at  once  to  the  wash.  But  nothing 
washes  the  past,  not  even  repentance,  whatever  they  may 
say.  There  are  some  ideas  which  should  be  set  aside. 
A  prisoner  should  not  allow  himself  to  think  of  free- 
dom. 

"  And  yet,"  she  added,  shrugging  her  shoulders,  "  a 
prisoner  has  always  the  hope  of  escaping ;  whereas  I  " — 

Then,  making  a  visible  effort  to  resume  her  usual 
manner, — 

"  Bash !  "  she  said,  "  that's  enough  sentiment  for 
one  day;  and  instead  of  staying  here,  boring  you  to 
death,  I  ought  to  go  and  dress ;  for  I  am  going  to  the 
opera  with  my  sweet  mamma,  and  afterwards  to  the  ball. 
You  ought  to  come.  I  am  going  to  wear  a  stunning 
dress.  The  ball  is  at  Mme.  de  Bois  d'Ardon's, — 
one  of  our  friends,  a  progressive  woman.  She  has 
a  smoking-room  for  ladies.  What  do  you  think  of 
that?  Come,  will  you  go?  We'll  drink  champagne, 
and  we'll  laugh.  No  Zut  then,  and  my  compliments 
to  your  family." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  453 

But,  at  the  moment  of  leaving  the  room,  her  heart 
failed  her. 

"  This  is  doubtless  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  see  you, 
M.  de  Tregars,"  she  said.  "  Farewell !  You  know  now 
why  I,  who  have  a  dowry  of  a  million,  I  envy  Gilberte 
Favoral.  Once  more  farewell.  And,  whatever  hap- 
piness may  fall  to  your  lot  in  life,  remember  that  Cesar- 
ine  has  wished  it  all  to  you." 

And  she  went  out  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Bar- 
oness de  Thaller  returned. 


VII. 

"  CESARINE  !  "  Mme.  de  Thaller  called,  in  a  voice 
which  sounded  at  once  like  a  prayer  and  a  threat. 

"  I  am  going  to  dress  myself,  mamma,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"  Come  back !  " 

"  So  that  you  can  scold  me  if  I  am  not  ready  when 
you  want  to  go?  Thank  you,  no." 

"  I  command  you  to  come  back,  Cesarine." 

No  answer.     She  was  far  already. 

Mme.  de  Thaller  closed  the  door  of  the  little  parlor, 
and  returning  to  take  a  seat  by  M.  de  Tregars, — 

"  What  a  singular  girl !  "  she  said. 

Meantime  he  was  watching  in  the  glass  what  was  go- 
ing on  in  the  other  room.  The  suspicious-looking  man 
was  there  still,  and  alone.  A  servant  had  brought  him 
pen,  ink  and  paper;  and  he  was  writing  rapidly. 

"  How  is  it  that  they  leave  him  there  alone  ?  "  won- 
dered Marius. 

And  he  endeavored  to  find  upon  the  features  of  the 
baroness  an  answer  to  the  confused  presentiments  which 


454  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

agitated  his  brain.  But  there  was  no  longer  any  trace 
of  the  emotion  which  she  had  manifested  when  taken 
unawares.  Having  had  time  for  reflection,  she  had 
composed  for  herself  an  impenetrable  countenance. 
Somewhat  surprised  at  M.  de  Tregars'  silence, — 

"  I  was  saying,"  she  repeated,  "  that  Cesarine  is  a 
strange  girl." 

Still  absorbed  by  the  scene  in  the  grand  parlor, — 

"  Strange,  indeed !  "  he  answered. 

"  And  such  is,"  said  the  baroness  with  a  sigh,  "  the 
result  of  M.  de  Thaller's  weakness,  and  above  all  of  my 
own." 

"Ah!" 

"  We  have  no  child  but  Cesarine ;  and  it  was  natural 
that  we  should  spoil  her.  Her  fancy  has  been,  and  is 
still,  our  only  law.  She  has  never  had  time  to  express 
a  wish :  she  is  obeyed  before  she  has  spoken." 

She  sighed  again,  and  deeper  than  the  first  time. 

"  You  have  just  seen,"  she  went  on,  "  the  results  of 
that  insane  education.  And  yet  it  would  not  do  to  trust 
appearances.  Cesarine,  believe  me,  is  not  as  extrava- 
gant as  she  seems.  She  possesses  solid  qualities, — of 
those  which  a  man  expects  of  the  woman  who  is  to  be 
his  wife." 

Without  taking  his  eyes  off  the  glass, — 

"  I  believe  you  madame,"  said  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  With  her  father,  with  me  especially,  she  is  capri- 
cious, wilful,  and  violent;  but,  in  the  hands  of  the  hus- 
band of  her  choice,  she  would  be  like  wax  in  the  hands 
of  the  modeller." 

The  man  in  the  parlor  had  finished  his  letter,  and, 
with  an  equivocal  smile,  was  reading  it  over. 

"  Believe  me,  madame,"  replied  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  455 

have  perfectly  understood  how  much  naive  boasting 
there  was  in  all  that  Mile.  Cesarine  told  me." 

"  Then,  really,  you  do  not  judge  her  too  severely?" 

"  Your  heart  has  not  more  indulgence  for  her  than 
my  own." 

"  And  yet  it  is  from  you  that  her  first  real  sorrow 
comes." 

"From  me?" 

The  baroness  shook  her  head  in  a  melancholy  way, 
to  convey  an  idea  of  her  maternal  affection  and  anx- 
iety. 

"  Yes,  from  you,  my  dear  marquis,"  she  replied, — 
"  from  you  alone.  On  the  very  day  you  entered  this 
house,  Cesarine's  whole  nature  changed." 

Having  read  his  letter  over,  the  man  in  the  grand  par- 
lor had  folded  it,  and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket,  and,  hav- 
ing left  his  seat,  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  something. 
M.  de  Tregars  was  following,  in  the  glass,  his  every 
motion,  with  the  most  eager  curiosity.  And  neverthe- 
less, as  he  felt  the  absolute  necessity  of  saying  some- 
thing, were  it  only  to  avoid  attracting  the  attention  of 
the  baroness, — 

"What!"  he  said,  "Mile.  Cesarine's  nature  did 
change,  then  ?  " 

"  In  one  night.  Had  she  not  met  the  hero  of  whom 
every  girl  dreams? — a  man  of  thirty,  bearing  one  of 
the  oldest  names  in  France." 

She  stopped,  expecting  an  answer,  a  word,  an  excla- 
mation. But,  as  M.  de  Tregars  said  nothing, — 

"  Did  you  never  notice  any  thing  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Nothing." 

"  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  myself,  that  my  poor 
Cesarine,  alas ! — loves  you  ?  " 


456  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

M.  de  Tregars  started.  Had  he  been  less  occupied 
with  the  personage  in  the  grand  parlor,  he  would  cer- 
tainly not  have  allowed  the  conversation  to  drift  in  this 
channel.  He  understood  his  mistake;  and,  in  an  icy 
tone, — 

"  Permit  me,  madame,"  he  said,  "  to  believe  that  you 
are  jesting." 

"  And  suppose  it  were  the  truth." 

"  It  would  make  me  unhappy  in  the  extreme." 

"Sir!" 

"  For  the  reason  which  I  have  already  told  you,  that 
I  love  Mile.  Gilberte  Favoral  with  the  deepest  and  the 
purest  love,  and  that  for  the  past  three  years  she  has 
been,  before  God,  my  affianced  bride." 

Something  like  a  flash  of  anger  passed  over  Mme. 
de  Thaller's  eyes. 

"And  I,"  she  exclaimed, — "  I  tell  you  that  this  mar- 
riage is  senseless." 

"  I  wish  it  were  still  more  so,  that  I  might  the  better 
show  to  Gilberte  how  dear  she  is  to  me." 

Calm  in  appearance,  the  baroness  was  scratching  with 
her  nails  the  satin  of  the  chair  on  which  she  was  sitting. 

"  Then,"  she  went  on,  "  your  resolution  is  settled." 

"  Irrevocably." 

"  Still,  now,  come,  between  us  who  are  no  longer 
children,  suppose  M.  de  Thaller  were  to  double  Cesar- 
ine's  dowry,  to  treble  it  ?  " 

An  expression  of  intense  disgust  contracted  the  manly 
features  of  Marius  de  Tregars. 

"  Ah !  not  another  word,  madame,"  he  interrupted. 

There  was  no  hope  left.  Mme.  de  Thaller  fully  real- 
ized it  by  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke.  She  remained 
pensive  for  over  a  minute,  and  suddenly,  like  a  person 
who  has  finally  made  up  her  mind,  she  rang. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  457 

A  footman  appeared. 

"  Do  what  I  told  you !  "  she  ordered. 

And  as  soon  as  the  footman  had  gone,  turning  to  M. 
de  Tregars, — 

"  Alas !  "  she  said,  "  who  would  have  thought  that  I 
would  curse  the  day  when  you  first  entered  our  house  ?  " 

But,  whilst  she  spoke,  M.  de  Tregars  noticed  in  the 
glass  the  result  of  the  order  she  had  just  given. 

The  footman  walked  into  the  grand  parlor,  spoke  a 
few  words;  and  at  once  the  man  with  the  alarming 
countenance  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out. 

"  This  is  very  strange !  "  thought  M.  de  Tregars. 

Meantime,  the  baroness  was  going  on, — 

"  If  your  intentions  are  to  that  point  irrevocable,  how 
is  it  that  you  are  here?  You  have  too  much  experience 
of  the  world  not  to  have  understood,  this  morning,  the 
object  of  my  visit  and  of  my  allusions." 

Fortunately,  M.  de  Tregars'  attention  was  no  longer 
drawn  by  the  proceedings  in  the  next  room.  The  de- 
cisive moment  had  come :  the  success  of  the  game  he  was 
playing  would,  perhaps,  depend  upon  his  coolness  and 
self-command. 

"  It  is  because  I  did  understand,  madame,  and  even 
better  than  you  suppose,  that  I  am  here." 

"Indeed!" 

"  I  came,  expecting  to  deal  with  M.  de  Thaller 
alone.  I  have  been  compelled,  by  what  has  happened, 
to  alter  my  intentions.  It  is  to  you  that  I  must  speak 
first." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  continued  to  manifest  the  same  tran- 
quil assurance ;  but  she  stood  up.  Feeling  the  approach 
of  the  storm,  she  wished  to  be  up,  and  ready  to  meet  it. 

"  You  honor  me,"  she  said  with  an  ironical  smile. 

There  was,  henceforth,  no  human  power  capable  of 


458  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

turning  Marius  de  Tregars  from  the  object  he  had  vn 
view. 

"  It  is  to  you  I  shall  speak,"  he  repeated,  "  because, 
after  you  have  heard  me,  you  may  perhaps  judge  that  it 
is  your  interest  to  join  me  in  endeavoring  to  obtain 
from  your  husband  what  I  ask,  what  I  demand,  what  I 
must  have." 

With  an  air  of  surprise  marvellously  well  simulated, 
if  it  was  not  real,  the  baroness  was  looking  at  him. 

"  My  father,"  he  proceeded  to  say,  "  the  Marquis  de 
Tregars,  was  once  rich:  he  had  several  millions.  And 
yet  when  I  had  the  misfortune  of  losing  him,  three 
years  ago,  he  was  so  thoroughly  ruined,  that  to  relieve 
the  scruples  of  his  honor,  and  to  make  his  death  easier, 
I  gave  up  to  his  creditors  all  I  had  in  the  world.  What 
had  become  of  my  father's  fortune?  What  filter  had 
been  administered  to  him  to  induce  him  to  launch  into 
hazardous  speculations, — he,  an  old  Breton  gentleman, 
full,  even  to  absurdity,  of  the  most  obstinate  prejudices 
of  the  nobility?  That's  what  I  wished  to  ascertain." 

"  Ah !  " 

"  And  now,  madame,  I — have  ascertained." 

She  was  a  strong-minded  woman,  the  Baroness  de 
Thaller.  She  had  had  so  many  adventures  in  her  life, 
she  had  walked  on  the  very  edge  of  so  many  precipices, 
concealed  so  many  anxieties,  that  danger  was,  as  it 
were,  her  element,  and  that,  at  the  decisive  moment  of 
an  almost  desperate  game,  she  could  remain  smiling  like' 
those  old  gamblers  whose  face  never  betrays  their  ter- 
rible emotion  at  the  moment  when  they  risk  their  last 
stake.  Not  a  muscle  of  her  face  moved ;  and  it  was  with 
the  most  imperturbable  calm  that  she  said, — 

"  Go  on,  I  am  listening :  it  must  be  quite  interesting." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  459 

That  was  not  the  way  to  propitiate  M.  de  Tregars. 
He  resumed,  in  a  brief  and  harsh  tone, — 

"  When  my  father  died,  I  was  young.  I  did  not 
know  then  what  I  have  learned  since, — that  to  con- 
tribute to  insure  the  impunity  of  knaves  is  almost  to 
make  one's  self  their  accomplice.  And  the  victim  who 
says  nothing  and  submits,  does  contribute  to  it.  The 
honest  man,  on  the  contrary,  should  speak,  and  point 
out  to  others  the  trap  into  which  he  has  fallen,  that  they 
may  avoid  it." 

The  baroness  was  listening  with  the  air  of  a  person 
who  is  compelled  by  politeness  to  hear  a  tiresome  story. 

"  That  is  a  rather  gloomy  preamble,"  she  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  took  no  notice  of  the  interruption. 

"  At  all  times,"  he  went  on,  "  my  father  seemed  care- 
less of  his  affairs :  that  affectation,  he  thought,  was  due 
to  the  name  he  bore.  But  his  negligence  was  only  ap- 
parent. I  might  mention  things  of  him  that  would  do 
honor  to  the  most  methodical  tradesman.  He  had,  for 
instance,  the  habit  of  preserving  all  the  letters  of  any 
importance  which  he  received.  He  left  twelve  or  fif- 
teen boxes  full  of  such.  They  were  carefully  classi- 
fied; and  many  bore  upon  their  margin  a  few  notes 
indicating  what  answer  had  been  made  to  them.'' 

Half  suppressing  a  yawn, — 

"  That  is  order,"  said  the  baroness,  "  if  I  know  any 
thing  about  it." 

"  At  the  first  moment,  determined  not  to  stir  up  the 
past,  I  attached  no  importance  to  those  letters ;  and  they 
would  certainly  have  been  burnt,  but  for  an  old  friend 
of  the  family,  the  Count  de  Villegre,  who  had  them 
carried  to  his  own  house.  But  later,  acting  under  the 
influence  of  circumstances  which  it  would  be  too  long 


460  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  explain  to  you,  I  regretted  my  apathy ;  and  I  thought 
that  I  should,  perhaps,  find  in  that  correspondence  some- 
thing to  either  dissipate  or  justify  certain  suspicions 
which  had  occurred  to  me." 

"  So  that,  like  a  respectful  son,  you  read  it  ?  " 

M.  de  Tregars  bowed  ceremoniously. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  to  avenge  a  father  of  the 
imposture  of  which  he  was  the  victim  during  his  life,  is 
to  render  homage  to  his  memory.  Yes,  madame,  I  read 
the  whole  of  that  correspondence,  and  with  an  interest 
which  you  will  readily  understand.  I  had  already,  and 
without  result,  examined  the  contents  of  several  boxes, 
when  in  the  package  marked  1852,  a  year  which  my 
father  spent  in  Paris,  certain  letters  attracted  my  atten- 
tion. They  were  written  upon  coarse  paper,  in  a  very 
primitive  handwriting  and  wretchedly  spelt.  They  were 
signed  sometimes  Phrasie,  sometimes  Marquise  de  Ja- 
velle.  Some  gave  the  address,  '  Rue  des  Bergers,  No. 
3,  Paris-Grenelle.' 

"  Those  letters  left  me  no  doubt  upon  what  had  taken 
place.  My  father  had  met  a  young  working-girl  of  rare 
beauty :  he  had  taken  a  fancy  to  her ;  and,  as  he  was  tor- 
mented by  the  fear  of  being  loved  for  his  money  alone, 
he  had  passed  himself  off  for  a  poor  clerk  in  one  of  the 
departments." 

"  Quite  a  touching  little  love-romance,"  remarked  the 
baroness. 

But  there  was  no  impertinence  'that  could  affect 
Marius  de  Tregars'  coolness. 

"  A  romance,  perhaps,"  he  said,  "  but  in  that  case  a 
money-romance,  not  a  love-romance.  This  Phrasie.  or 
Marquise  de  Javelle,  announces  in  one  of  her  letters, 
that  in  February,  1853,  she  nas  given  birth  to  a  daughter, 
whom  she  has  confided  to  some  relatives  of  hers  in  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  461 

south,  near  Toulouse.  It  was  doubtless  that  event  which 
induced  my  father  to  acknowledge  who  he  was.  He 
confesses  that  he  is  not  a  poor  clerk,  but  the  Marquis  de 
Tregars,  having  an  income  of  over  a  hundred  thousand 
francs.  At  once  the  tone  of  the  correspondence  changes. 
The  Marquise  de  Javelle  has  a  stupid  time  where  she 
lives ;  the  neighbors  reproach  her  with  her  fault ;  work 
spoils  her  pretty  hands.  Result:  less  than  two  weeks 
after  the  birth  of  her  daughter,  my  father  hires  for  his 
pretty  mistress  a  lovely  apartment,  which  she  occupies 
under  the  name  of  Mme.  Devil;  she  is  allowed  fifteen 
hundred  francs  a  month,  servants,  horses,  carriage." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  was  giving  signs  of  the  utmost  im- 
patience. Without  paying  any  attention  to  them,  M. 
de  Tregars  proceeded, — 

"  Henceforth  free  to  see  each  other  daily,  my  father 
and  his  mistress  cease  to  write.  But  Mme.  Devil  does 
not  waste  her  time.  During  a  space  of  less  than  eight 
months,  from  February  to  September,  she  induces  my 
father  to  dispose — not  in  her  favor,  she  is  too  disinter- 
ested for  that,  but  in  favor  of  her  daughter — of  a  sum 
exceeding  five  hundred  thousand  francs.  In  September, 
the  correspondence  is  resumed.  Mme.  Devil  discovers 
that  she  is  not  happy,  and  acknowledges  it  in  a  letter, 
which  shows,  by  its  improved  writing  and  more  correct 
spelling,  that  she  has  been  taking  lessons. 

"  She  complains  of  her  precarious  situation :  the  fu- 
ture frightens  her :  she  longs  for  respectability.  Such  is, 
for  three  months,  the  constant  burden  of  her  correspond- 
ence. She  regrets  the  time  when  she  was  a  working- 
girl:  why  has  she  been  so  weak?  Then,  at  last,  in  a 
note  which  betrays  long  debates  and  stormy  discussions, 
she  announces  that  she  has  an  unexpected  offer  of  mar- 
riage ;  a  fine  fellow,  who,  if  she  only  had  two  hundred 


462  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

thousand  francs,  would  give  his  name  to  herself  and  to 
her  darling  little  daughter.  For  a  long  time  my  father 
hesitates ;  but  she  presses  her  point  with  such  rare  skill, 
she  demonstrates  so  conclusively  that  this  marriage  will 
insure  the  happiness  of  their  child,  that  my  father  yields 
at  last,  and  resigns  himself  to  the  sacrifice.  And  in  a 
memorandum  on  the  margin  of  a  last  letter,  he  states 
that  he  has  just  given  two  hundred  thousand  francs  to 
Mme.  Devil ;  that  he  will  never  see  her  again ;  and  that 
he  returns  to  live  in  Brittany,  where  he  wishes,  by  the 
most  rigid  economy,  to  repair  the  breach  he  has  just 
made  in  his  fortune." 

"  Thus  end  all  these  love-stories/'  said  Mme.  de 
Thaller  in  a  jesting  tone. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon :  this  one  is  not  ended  yet.  For 
many  years,  my  father  kept  his  word,  and  never  left  our 
homestead  of  Tregars.  But  at  last  he  grew  tired  of  his 
solitude,  and  returned  to  Paris.  Did  he  seek  to  see  his 
former  mistress  again  ?  I  think  not.  I  suppose  that  chance 
brought  them  together ;  or  else,  that,  being  aware  of  his 
return,  she  managed  to  put  herself  in  his  way.  He 
found  her  more  fascinating  than  ever,  and,  according  to 
what  she  wrote  him,  rich  and  respected ;  for  her  husband 
had  become  a  personage.  She  would  have  been  perfectly 
happy,  she  added,  had  it  been  possible  for  her  to  forget 
the  man  whom  she  had  once  loved  so  much,  and  to 
whom  she  owed  her  position. 

"  I  have  that  letter.  The  elegant  hand,  the  style,  and 
the  correct  orthography,  express  better  than  any  thing 
else  the  transformations  of  the  Marquise  de  Javelle. 
Only  it  is  not  signed.  The  little  working-girl  has  be- 
come prudent :  she  has  much  to  lose,  and  fears  to  com- 
promise herself. 

"A  week  later,  in  a  laconic  note,  apparently  dictated 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  463 

by  an  irresistible  passion,  she  begs  my  father  to  come  to 
see  her  at  her  own  house.  He  does  so,  and  finds  there 
a  little  girl,  whom  he  believes  to  be  his  own  child,  and 
whom  he  at  once  begins  to  idolize. 

"  And  that's  all.  Again  he  falls  under  the  charm. 
He  ceases  to  belong  to  himself:  his  former  mistress 
can  dispose,  at  her  pleasure,  of  his  fortune  and  of  his 
fate. 

"  But  see  now  what  bad  luck !  The  husband  takes 
a  notion  to  become  jealous  of  my  father's  visits.  In  a 
letter  which  is  a  masterpiece  of  diplomacy,  the  lady  ex- 
plains her  anxiety.  '  He  has  suspicions,'  she  writes ; 
'  and  to  what  extremities  might  he  not  resort,  were  he 
to  discover  the  truth ! '  And  with  infinite  art  she  insinu- 
ates that  the  best  way  to  justify  his  constant  presence  is 
to  associate  himself  with  that  jealous  husband. 

"  It  is  with  childish  haste  that  my  father  jumps  at 
the  suggestion.  But  money  is  needed.  He  sells  his 
lands,  and  everywhere  announces  that  he  has  great 
financial  ideas,  and  that  he  is  going  to  increase  his  for- 
tune tenfold. 

"  There  he  is  now,  partner  of  his  former  mistress's 
husband,  engaged  in  speculations,  director  of  a  com- 
pany. He  thinks  that  he  is  doing  an  excellent  business : 
he  is  convinced  that  he  is  making  lots  of  money.  Poor 
honest  man !  They  prove  to  him,  one  morning,  that  he 
is  ruined,  and,  what  is  more,  compromised.  And  this 
is  made  to  look  so  much  like  the  truth,  that  I  interfere 
myself,  and  pay  the  creditors.  We  were  ruined;  but 
honor  was  safe.  A  few  weeks  later,  my  father  died 
broken-hearted." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  half  rose  from  her  seat  with  a  ges- 
ture which  indicated  the  joy  of  escaping  at  last  a  mer- 
ciless bore.  A  glance  from  M.  de  Tregars  riveted  her 


464  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

to  her  seat,  freezing  upon  her  lips  the  jest  she  was  about 
to  utter. 

"  I  have  not  done  yet,"  he  said  rudely. 

And,  without  suffering  any  interruption, — 

"  From  this  correspondence,"  he  resumed,  "  resulted 
the  flagrant,  irrefutable  proof  of  a  shameful  intrigue, 
long  since  suspected  by  my  old  friend,  General  Count 
de  Villegre.  It  became  evident  to  me  that  my  poor 
father  had  been  most  shamefully  imposed  upon  by  that 
mistress,  so  handsome  and  so  dearly  loved,  and,  later, 
despoiled,  by  the  husband  of  that  mistress.  But  all  this 
availed  me  nothing.  Being  ignorant  of  my  father's  life 
and  connections,  the  letters  giving  neither  a  name  nor 
a  precise  detail,  I  knew  not  whom  to  accuse.  Besides, 
in  order  to  accuse,  it  is  necessary  to  have,  at  least,  some 
material  proof." 

The  baroness  had  resumed  her  seat ;  and  every  thing 
about  her — her  attitude,  her  gestures,  the  motion  of  her 
lips — seemed  to  say, — 

"  You  are  my  guest.  Civility  has  its  demands ;  but 
really  you  abuse  your  privileges." 

M.  de  Tregars  went  on, — 

"  At  this  moment  I  was  still  a  sort  of  savage,  wholly 
absorbed  in  my  experiments,  and  scarcely  ever  setting 
foot  outside  my  laboratory.  I  was  indignant;  I  ar- 
dently wished  to  find  and  to  punish  the  villains  who  had 
robbed  us :  but  I  knew  not  how  to  go  about  it,  nor  in 
what  direction  to  seek  information.  The  wretches 
would,  perhaps,  have  gone  unpunished,  but  for  a  good 
and  worthy  man,  now  a  commissary  of  police,  to  whom 
I  once  rendered  a  slight  service,  one  night,  in  a  riot, 
when  he  was  close  pressed  by  some  half-dozen  rascals. 
I  explained  the  situation  to  him :  he  took  much  interest 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     465 

in  it,  promised  his  assistance,  and  marked  out  my  line 
of  conduct." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  seemed  restless  upon  her  seat. 

"  I  must  confess,"  she  began,  "  that  I  am  not  wholly 
mistress  of  my  time.  I  am  dressed,  as  you  see :  I  have 
to  go  out." 

If  she  had  preserved  any  hope  of  adjourning  the  ex- 
planation which  she  felt  coming,  she  must  have  lost  it 
when  she  heard  the  tone  in  which  M.  de  Tregars  in- 
terrupted her. 

"  You  can  go  out  to-morrow." 

And,  without  hurrying, — 

"  Advised,  as  I  have  just  told  you,"  he  continued, 
"  and  assisted  by  the  experience  of  a  professional  man, 
I  went  first  to  No.  3,  Rue  des  Bergers,  in  Crenelle.  I 
found  there  some  old  people,  the  foreman  of  a  neighbor- 
ing factory  and  his  wife,  who  had  been  living  in  the 
house  for  nearly  twenty-five  years.  At  my  first  ques- 
tion, they  exchanged  a  glance,  and  commenced  laugh- 
ing. They  remembered  perfectly  the  Marquise  de  Ja- 
velle,  which  was  but  a  nickname  for  a  young  and  pretty 
laundress,  whose  real  name  was  Euphrasie  Taponnet. 
She  had  lived  for  eighteen  months  on  the  same  landing 
as  themselves :  she  had  a  lover,  who  passed  himself  off 
for  a  clerk,  but  who  was,  in  fact,  she  had  told  them,  a 
very  wealthy  nobleman.  They  added  that  she  had  given 
birth  to  a  little  girl,  and  that,  two  weeks  later  she  had 
disappeared,  and  they  had  never  heard  a  word  from  her. 
When  I  left  them,  they  said  to  me,  '  If  you  see  Phrasie, 
ask  her  if  she  ever  knew  old  Chandour  and  his  wife.  I, 
am  sure  she'll  remember  us.'  " 

For  the  first  time  Mme.  de  Thaller  shuddered  slightly ; 
but  it  was  almost  imperceptible. 


466  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  From  Crenelle,"  continued  M.  de  Tregars,  "  I  went 
to  the  house  where  my  father's  mistress  had  lived  under 
the  name  of  Mme.  Devil.  I  was  in  luck.  I  found  there 
the  same  concierge  as  in  1853.  As  soon  as  I  mentioned 
Mme.  Devil,  she  answered  me  that  she  had  not  in  the 
least  forgotten  her,  but,  on  the  contrary,  would  know 
her  among  a  thousand.  She  was,  she  said,  one  of  the 
prettiest  little  women  she  had  ever  seen,  and  the  most 
generous  tenant.  I  understood  the  hint,  handed  her  a 
couple  of  napoleons,  and  heard  from  her  every  thing 
she  knew  on  the  subject.  It  seemed  that  this  pretty 
Mme.  Devil  had,  not  one  lover,  but  two, — the  acknowl- 
edged one,  who  was  the  master,  and  footed  the  bills ;  and 
the  other  an  anonymous  one,  who  went  out  through  the 
back-stairs,  and  who  did  not  pay,  on  the  contrary.  The 
first  was  called  the  Marquis  de  Tregars :  of  the  second, 
she  had  never  known  but  the  first  name,  Frederic.  I 
tried  to  ascertain  what  had  become  of  Mme.  Devil ;  but 
the  worthy  concierge  swore  to  me  that  she  did  not  know. 

"  One  morning,  like  a  person  who  is  going  abroad, 
or  who  wishes  to  cover  up  her  tracks,  Mme.  Devil  had 
sent  for  a  furniture-dealer,  and  a  dealer  in  second-hand 
clothes,  and  had  sold  them  every  thing  she  had,  going 
away  with  nothing  but  a  little  leather  satchel,  in  which 
were  her  jewels  and  her  money." 

The  Baroness  de  Thaller  still  kept  a  good  counte- 
nance. After  examining  her  for  a  moment,  with  a  sort 
of  eager  curiosity,  Marius  de  Tregars  went  on, — 

"  When  I  communicated  this  information  to  my 
friend,  the  commissary  of  police,  he  shook  his  head. 
'  Two  years  ago,'  he  told  me, '  I  would  have  said,  That's 
more  than  we  want  to  find  those  people ;  for  the  public 
records  would  have  given  us  at  once  the  key  of  this  en- 
igma. But  we  have  had  the  war  and  the  Commune ;  and 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  467 

the  books  of  record  have  been  burnt  up.  Still  we  must 
not  give  up.  A  last  hope  remains ;  and  I  know  the  man 
who  is  capable  of  realizing  it.' 

"  Two  days  after,  he  brought  me  an  excellent  fellow, 
named  Victor  Chupin,  in  whom  I  could  have  entire  con- 
fidence; for  he  was  recommended  to  me  by  one  of  the 
men  whom  I  like  and  esteem  the  most,  the  Duke  de 
Champdoce.  Giving  up  all  idea  of  applying  at  the  va- 
rious mayors'  offices,  Victor  Chupin,  with  the  patience 
and  the  tenacity  of  an  Indian  following  a  scent,  began 
beating  about  the  districts  of  Crenelle,  Vargirard,  and 
the  Invalids.  And  not  in  vain ;  for,  after  a  week  of  in- 
vestigations he  brought  me  a  nurse,  residing  Rue  de 
1'Universite,  who  remembered  perfectly  having  once  at- 
tended, on  the  occasion  of  her  confinement,  a  remarkably 
pretty  young  woman,  living  in  the  Rue  des  Bergers, 
and  nicknamed  the  Marquise  de  Javelle.  And  as  she 
was  a  very  orderly  woman,  who  at  all  times  had  kept 
a  very  exact  account  of  her  receipts,  she  brought  me  a 
little  book  in  which  I  read  this  entry :  '  For  attending 
Euphrasie  Taponnet,  alias  the  Marquise  de  Javelle  (a 
girl),  one  hundred  francs.'  And  this  is  not  all.  This 
woman  informed  me,  moreover,  that  she  had  been  re- 
quested to  present  the  child  at  the  mayor's  office,  and 
that  she  had  been  duly  registered  there  under  the  names 
of  Euphrasie  Cesarine  Taponnet,  born  of  Euphrasie 
Taponnet,  laundress,  and  an  unknown  father.  Finally 
she  placed  at  my  disposal  her  account-book  and  her  tes- 
timony." 

Taxed  beyond  measure,  the  energy  of  the  baroness 
was  beginning  to  fail  her;  she  was  turning  livid  under 
her  rice-powder.  Still  in  the  same  icy  tone, — 

"  You  can  understand,  madame,"  said  Marius  de 
Tregars,  "  that  this  woman's  testimony,  together  with 


468  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  letters  which  are  in  my  possession,  enables  me  to 
establish  before  the  courts  the  exact  date  of  the  birth  of 
a  daughter  whom  my  father  had  of  his  mistress.  But 
that's  nothing  yet.  With  renewed  zeal,  Victor  Chupin 
had  resumed  his  investigations.  He  had  undertaken 
the  examination  of  the  marriage-registers  in  all  the  par- 
ishes of  Paris,  and,  as  early  as  the  following  week,  he 
discovered  at  Notre  Dame  des  Lorettes  the  entry  of  the 
marriage  of  Euphrasie  Taponnet  with  Frederic  de 
Thaller." 

Though  she  must  have  expected  that  name,  the  bar- 
oness started  up  violently  and  livid,  and  with  a  haggard 
look. 

"  It's  false !  "  she  began  in  a  choking  voice. 

A  smile  of  ironical  pity  passed  over  Marius'  lips. 

"  Five  minutes'  reflection  will  prove  to  you  that  it  is 
useless  to  deny,"  he  interrupted.  "  But  wait.  In  the 
books  of  that  same  church,  Victor  Chupin  has  found 
registered  the  baptism  of  a  daughter  of  M.  and  Mme  de 
Thaller,  bearing  the  same  names  as  the  first  one, — Eu- 
phrasie Cesarine." 

With  a  convulsive  motion  the  baroness  shrugged  her 
shoulder. 

"  What  does  all  that  prove?  "  she  said. 

"  That  proves,  madame,  the  well-settled  intention  of 
substituting  one  child  for  another ;  that  proves  that  my 
father  was  imprudently  deceived  when  he  was  made  to 
believe  that  the  second  Cesarine  was  his  daughter,  the  ; 
daughter  in  whose  favor  he  had  formerly  disposed  of 
over  five  hundred  thousand  francs;  that  proves  that 
there  is  somewhere  in  the  world  a  poor  girl  who  has  been 
basely  forsaken  by  her  mother,  the  Marquise  de  Javelle, 
now  become  the  Baroness  de  Thaller." 

Beside  herself  with  terror  and  anger,— 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  469 

"  That  is  an  infamous  lie !  "  exclaimed  the  baroness. 

M.  de  Tregars  bowed. 

"  The  evidence  of  the  truth  of  my  statements,"  he 
said,  "  I  shall  find  at  Louveciennes,  and  at  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  Boulevard  du  Temple,  Paris." 

Night  had  come.  A  footman  came  in  carrying  lamps, 
which  he  placed  upon  the  mantelpiece.  He  was  not  all 
together  one  minute  in  the  little  parlor;  but  that  one 
minute  was  enough  to  enable  the  Marquise  de  Thaller 
to  recover  her  coolness,  and  to  collect  her  ideas.  When 
the  footman  retired,  she  had  made  up  her  mind,  with 
the  resolute  promptness  of  a  person  accustomed  to  peril- 
ous situations.  She  gave  up  the  discussion,  and,  draw- 
ing near  to  M.  de  Tregars, — 

"  Enough  allusions,"  she  said :  "  let  us  speak  frankly, 
and  face  to  face  now.  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

But  the  change  was  too  sudden  not  to  arouse  Marius's 
suspicions. 

"  I  want  a  great  many  things,"  he  replied. 

"  Still  you  must  specify." 

"  Well,  I  claim  first  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs 
which  my  father  had  settled  upon  his  daughter, — the 
daughter  whom  you  cast  off." 

"And  what  next?" 

"  I  want  besides,  my  own  and  my  father's  fortune, 
of  which  we  have  been  robbed  by  M.  de  Thaller,  with 
your  assistance,  madame." 

"Is  that  all,  at  least?" 

M.  de  Tregars  shook  his  head. 

"  That's  nothing  yet,"  he  replied. 

"Oh!" 

"  We  have  now  to  say  something  of  Vincent  Favoral's 
affairs." 

An  attorney  who  is  defending  the  interests  of  a  client 


470  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

is  neither  calmer  nor  cooler  than  Mme.  de  Thaller  at 
this  moment. 

"  Do  the  affairs  of  my  husband's  cashier  concern  me, 
then  ?  "  she  said  with  a  shade  of  irony. 

"  Yes,  madame,  very  much." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  I  know  it  from  excellent  sources,  because,  on  my 
return  from  Louveciennes,  I  called  in  the  Rue  du 
Cirque,  where  I  saw  one  Zelie  Cadelle." 

He  thought  that  the  baroness  would  at  least  start  on 
hearing  that  name.  Not  at  all.  With  a  look  of  pro- 
found astonishment, — 

"  Rue  du  Cirque,"  she  repeated,  like  a  person  who  is 
making  a  prodigious  effort  of  memory, — "  Rue  du 
Cirque!  Zelie  Cadelle!  Really,  I  do  not  understand." 

But,  from  the  glance  which  M.  de  Tregars  cast  upon 
her,  she  must  have  understood  that  she  would  not  easily 
draw  from  him  the  particulars  which  he  had  resolved 
not  to  tell. 

"  I  believe,  on  the  contrary,"  he  uttered,  "  that  you 
understand  perfectly." 

"  Be  it  so,  if  you  insist  upon  it.  What  do  you  ask 
for  Favoral  ?  " 

"  I  demand,  not  for  Favoral,  but  for  the  stockholders 
who  have  been  impudently  defrauded,  the  twelve  mil- 
lions which  are  missing  from  the  funds  of  the  Mutual 
Credit." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  burst  out  laughing. 

"Only  that?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  only  that !  " 

"  Well,  then,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  should  present 
your  reclamations  to  M.  Favoral  himself.  You  have 
the  right  to  run  after  him." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  471 

"  It  is  useless,  for  the  reason  that  it  is  not  he,  the  poor 
fool !  who  has  carried  off  the  twelve  millions." 

"Who  is  it,  then?" 

"  M.  le  Baron  de  Thaller,  no  doubt.'' 

With  that  accent  of  pity  which  one  takes  to  reply  to  an 
absurd  proposition, — "  You  are  mad,  my  poor  marquis," 
said  Mme.  de  Thaller. 

"  You  do  not  think  so." 

"  But  suppose  I  should  refuse  to  do  any  thing  more  ?  " 

He  fixed  upon  her  a  glance  in  which  she  could  read 
an  irrevocable  determination;  and  slowly, — 

"  I  have  a  perfect  horror  of  scandal,"  he  replied, 
"  and,  as  you  perceive,  I  am  trying  to  arrange  every 
thing  quietly  between  us.  But,  if  I  do  not  succeed  thus, 
I  must  appeal  to  the  courts'" 

"  Where  are  your  proofs  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  afraid :  I  have  proofs  to  sustain  all  my  al- 
legations." 

The  baroness  had  stretched  herself  comfortably  in  her 
arm-chair.. 

"  May  we  know  them  ?  "  she  inquired. 

Marius  was  getting  somewhat  uneasy  in  presence  of 
Mme.  de  Thaller's  imperturbable  assurance.  What  hope 
had  she?  Could  she  see  some  means  of  escape  from 
a  situation  apparently  so  desperate?  Determined  to 
prove  to  her  that  all  was  lost,  and  that  she  had  nothing 
to  do  but  to  surrender, — 

"  Oh !  I  know,  madame,"  he  replied,  "  that  you  have 
taken  your  precautions.  But,  when  Providence  inter- 
feres, you  see,  human  foresight  does  not  amount  to 
much.  See,  rather,  what  happens  in  regard  to  your 
first  daughter, — the  one  you  had  when  you  were  still 
only  Marquise  de  Javelle.'' 


472     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  briefly  he  called  to  her  mind  the  principal  inci- 
dents of  Mile.  Lucienne's  life  from  the  time  that  she  had 
left  her  with  the  poor  gardeners  at  Louveciennes,  with- 
out giving  either  her  name  or  her  address, —  the  injury 
she  had  received  by  being  run  over  by  Mme.  de  Thal- 
ler's carriage;  the  long  letter  she  had  written  from  the 
hospital,  begging  for  assistance;  her  visit  to  the  house, 
and  her  meeting  with  the  Baron  de  Thaller;  the  effort 
to  induce  her  to  emigrate  to  America;  her  arrest  by 
means  of  false  information,  and  her  escape,  thanks  to  the 
kind  peace-officer ;  the  attempt  upon  her  life  as  she  was 
going  home  late  one  night;  and,  finally,  her  imprison- 
ment after  the  Commune,  among  the  petroleuses,  and 
her  release  through  the  interference  of  the  same  honest 
friend." 

And,  charging  her  with  the  responsibility  of  all  these 
infamous  acts,  he  paused  for  an  answer  or  a  protest. 
'And,  as  Mme.  de  Thaller  said  nothing, — 

"  You  are  looking  at  me,  madame,  and  wondering 
how  I  have  discovered  all  that.  A  single  word  will  ex- 
plain it  all.  The  peace-officer  who  saved  your  daughter 
is  precisely  the  same  to  whom  it  was  once  my  good  for- 
tune to  render  a  service.  By  comparing  notes,  we  have 
gradually  reached  the  truth, — reached  you,  madame. 
Will  you  acknowledge  now  that  I  have  more  proofs 
than  are  necessary  to  apply  to  the  courts  ?  " 

Whether  she  acknowledged  it  or  not,  she  did  hot  con- 
descend to  discuss. 

"  What  then  ?  "  she  said  coldly. 

But  M.  de  Tregars  was  too  much  on  his  guard  to 
expose  himself,  by  continuing  to  speak  thus,  to  reveal 
the  secret  of  his  designs. 

Besides,  whilst  he  was  thoroughly  satisfied  as  to  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  473 

manoeuvres  used  to  defraud  his  father  he  had,  as  yet, 
but  presumptions  on  what  concerned  Vincent  Favoral. 

"  Permit  me  not  to  say  another  word,  madame,"  he 
replied.  "  I  have  told  you  enough  to  enable  you  to 
judge  of  the  value  of  my  weapons." 

She  must  have  felt  that  she  could  not  make  him 
change  his  mind,  for  she  rose  to  go. 

"  That  is  sufficient,"  she  uttered.  "  I  shall  reflect ; 
and  to-morrow  I  shall  give  you  an  answer." 

She  started  to  go;  but  M.  de  Tregars  threw  himself 
quickly  between  her  and  the  door. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said ;  "  but  it  is  not  to-morrow  that 
I  want  an  answer :  it  is  to-night,  this  instant !  " 

Ah,  if  she  could  have  annihilated  him  with  a 
look. 

"  Why,  this  is  violence,"  she  said  in  a  voice  which  be- 
trayed the  incredible  effort  she  was  making  to  control 
herself. 

"  It  is  imposed  upon  me  by  circumstances,  madame." 

"  You  would  be  less  exacting,  if  my  husband  were 
here." 

He  must  have  been  within  hearing ;  for  suddenly  the 
door  opened,  and  he  appeared  upon  the  threshold. 

There  are  people  for  whom  the  unforeseen  does  not 
exist,  and  whom  no  event  can  disconcert.  Having  ven- 
tured every  thing,  they  expect  every  thing.  Such  was 
the  Baron  de  Thaller.  With  a  sagacious  glance  he  ex- 
amined his  wife  and  M.  de  Tregars;  and  in  a  cordial 
tone, — 

"  We  are  quarreling  here  ?  "  he  said. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come !  "  exclaimed  the  baroness. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  The  matter  is,  that  M.  de  Tregars  is  endeavoring  to 


474  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

take  an  odious  advantage  of  some  incidents  of  our  past 
life." 

"  There's  woman's  exaggeration  for  you !  "  he  said 
laughing. 

And,  holding  out  his  hand  to  Marius, — 

"  Let  me  make  your  peace  for  you,  my  dear  marquis," 
he  said :  "  that's  within  the  province  of  the  husband." 

But,  instead  of  taking  his  extended  hand,  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  stepped  back. 

"  There  is  no  more  peace  possible,  sir,  I  am  an 
enemy." 

"  An  enemy !  "  he  repeated  in  a  tone  of  surprise  which 
was  wonderfully  well  assumed,  if  it  was  not  real. 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  the  baroness ;  "  and  I  must  speak 
to  you  at  once,  Frederic.  Come:  M.  de  Tregars  will 
wait  for  you." 

And  she  led  her  husband  into  the  adjoining  room, 
not  without  first  casting  upon  Marius  a  look  of  burn- 
ing and  triumphant  hatred. 

Left  alone,  M.  de  Tregars  sat  down.  Far  from  an- 
noying him,  this  sudden  intervention  of  the  manager 
of  the  Mutual  Credit  seemed  to  him  a  stroke  of  fortune. 
It  spared  him  an  explanation  more  painful  still  than 
the  first,  and  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  having  to  con- 
found a  villain  by  proving  his  infamy  to  him. 

"  And  besides,"  he  thought,  "  when  the  husband  and 
the  wife  have  consulted  with  each  other,  they  will  ac- 
knowledge that  they  cannot  resist,  and  that  it  is  best  to 
surrender."  The  deliberation  was  brief.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes,  M.  de  Thaller  returned  alone.  He  was  pale; 
and  his  face  expressed  well  the  grief  of  an  honest  man 
who  discovers  too  late  that  he  has  misplaced  his  con- 
fidence. 

"  My  wife  has  told  me  all,  sir,"  he  began. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  475 

M.  de  Tregars  had  risen.     "  Well  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  see  me  distressed.  Ah,  M.  le  Marquis !  how 
could  I  ever  expect  such  a  thing  from  you  ? — you,  whom 
I  thought  I  had  the  right  to  look  upon  as  a  friend.  And 
it  is  you,  who,  when  a  great  misfortune  befalls  me,  at- 
tempts to  give  me  the  finishing  stroke.  It  is  you  who 
would  crush  me  under  the  weight  of  slanders  gathered 
in  the  gutter." 

M.  de  Tregars  stopped  him  with  a  gesture. 

"  Mme.  de  Thaller  cannot  have  correctly  repeated 
my  words  to  you,  else  you  would  not  utter  that  word 
'  slander.'  " 

"  She  has  repeated  them  to  me  without  the  least 
change." 

"  Then  she  cannot  have  told  you  the  importance  of 
the  proofs  I  have  in  my  hands." 

But  the  Baron  persisted,  as  Mile.  Cesarine  would 
have  said,  to  "  do  it  up  in  the  tender  style." 

"  There  is  scarcely  a  family,"  he  resumed,  "  in  which 
there  is  not  some  one  of  those  painful  secrets  which  they 
try  to  withhold  from  the  wickedness  of  the  world.  There 
is  one  in  mine.  Yes,  it  is  true,  that  before  our  marriage, 
my  wife  had  had  a  child,  whom  poverty  had  compelled 
her  to  abandon.  We  have  since  done  every  thing  that 
it  was  humanly  possible  to  find  that  child,  but  without 
success.  It  is  a  great  misfortune,  which  has  weighed 
upon  our  life;  but  it  is  not  a  crime.  If,  however,  you 
deem  it  your  interest  to  divulge  our  secret,  and  to  dis- 
grace a  woman,  you  are  free  to  do  so :  I  cannot  prevent 
you.  But  I  declare  it  to  you,  that  fact  is  the  only  thing 
real  in  your  accusations.  You  say  that  your  father  has 
been  duped  and  defrauded.  From  whom  did  you  get 
Such  an  idea  ? 

"  Frorn  Marcolet,  doubtless,  a  man  without  character, 


4/6  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

who  has  become  my  mortal  enemy  since  the  day  when 
he  tried  a  sharp  game  on  me,  and  came  out  second  best. 
Or  from  Costeclar,  perhaps,  who  does  not  forgive  me 
for  having  refused  him  my  daughter's  hand,  and  who 
hates  me  because  I  know  that  he  committed  forgery 
once,  and  that  he  would  be  in  prison  but  for  your 
father's  extreme  indulgence.  Well,  Costeclar  and  Mar- 
colet  have  deceived  you.  If  the  Marquis  de  Tregars 
ruined  himself,  it  is  because  he  undertook  a  business  that 
he  knew  nothing  about,  and  speculated  right  and  left. 
It  does  not  take  long  to  sink  a  fortune,  even  without  the 
assistance  of  thieves. 

"  As  to  pretend  that  I  have  benefited  by  the  embezzle- 
ments of  my  cashier  that  is  simply  stupid ;  and  there  can 
be  no  one  to  suggest  such  a  thing,  except  Jottras  and 
Saint  Pavin,  two  scoundrels  whom  I  have  had  ten  times 
the  opportunity  to  send  to  prison  and  who  were  the  ac- 
complices of  Favoral.  Besides,  the  matter  is  in  the 
hands  of  justice;  and  I  shall  prove  in  the  broad  daylight 
of  the  court-room,  as  I  have  already  done  in  the  office 
of  the  examining  judge,  that,  to  save  the  Mutual  Credit, 
I  have  sacrificed  more  than  half  mv  private  fortune." 

Tired  of  this  speech,  the  evident  object  of  which  was 
to  lead  him  to  discuss,  and  to  betray  himself, — 

"  Conclude,  sir,"  M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  harshly. 

Still  in  the  same  placid  tone, — 

"  To  conclude  is  easy  enough,"  replied  the  baron. 
"  My  wife  has  told  me  that  you  were  about  to  marry 
the  daughter  of  my  old  cashier, — a  very  handsome  girl, 
but  without  a  sou.  She  ought  to  have  a  dowry." 

"Sir!" 

"  Let  us  show  our  hands.  I  am  in  a  critical  position : 
you  know  it,  and  you  are  trying  to  take  advantage  of 
it.  Very  well:  we  can  still  come  to  an  understanding. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  477 

What  would  you  say,  if  I  were  to  give  to  Mile.  Gilberte 
the  dowry  I  intended  for  my  daughter  ?  " 

All  M.  de  Tregars'  blood  rushed  to  his  face. 

"  Ah,  not  another  word !  "  he  exclaimed  with  a  ges- 
ture of  unprecedented  violence. 

But,  controlling  himself  almost  at  once, — 

"  I  demand,"  he  added,  "  my  father's  fortune.  I 
demand  that  you  should  restore  to  the  Mutual  Credit 
Company  the  twelve  millions  which  have  been  ab- 
stracted." 

"And  if  not?" 

"  Then  I  shall  apply  to  the  courts." 

They  remained  for  a  moment  face  to  face,  looking 
into  each  other's  eyes.  Then, — 

"  What  have  you  decided  ?  "  asked  M.  de  Tregars. 

Without  perhaps,  suspecting  that  his  offer  was  a  new 
insult, — 

"  I  will  go  as  far  as  fifteen  hundred  thousand  francs," 
replied  M.  de  Thaller,  "  and  I  pay  cash." 

"  Is  that  your  last  word?  " 

"  It  is." 

"  If  I  enter  a  complaint,  with  the  proofs  in  my  hands, 
you  are  lost." 

"  We'll  see  about  that." 

To  insist  further  would  have  been  puerile. 

"  Very  well,  we'll  see,  then,"  said  M.  de  Tregars. 

But  as  he  walked  out  and  got  into  his  cab,  which  had 
been  waiting  for  him  at  the  door,  he  could  not  help  won- 
dering what  gave  the  Baron  de  Thaller  so  much  assur- 
ance, and  whether  he  was  not  mistaken  in  his  conjec- 
tures. 

It  was  nearly  eight  o'clock,  and  Maxence,  Mme.  Fa- 
voral  and  Mile.  Gilberte  must  have  been  waiting  for 
him  with  a  feverish  impatience ;  but  he  had  eaten  noth- 


478  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ing  since  morning,  and  he  stopped  in  front  of  one  of  the 
restaurants  of  the  Boulevard. 

He  had  just  ordered  his  dinner,  when  a  gentleman  of 
a  certain  age,  but  active  and  vigorous  still,  of  military 
bearing,  wearing  a  mustache,  and  a  vari-colored  ribbon 
at  his  buttonhole,  came  to  take  a  seat  at  the  adjoining 
table. 

In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  M.  de  Tregars  had  des- 
patched a  bowl  of  soup  and  a  slice  of  beef,  and  was  has- 
tening out,  when  his  foot  struck  his  neighbor's  foot, 
without  his  being  able  to  understand  how  it  had  hap- 
pened. 

Though  fully  convinced  that  it  was  not  his  fault,  he 
hastened  to  excuse  himself.  But  the  other  began  to 
talk  angrily,  and  so  loud,  that  everybody  turned  around. 

Vexed  as  he  was,  Marius  renewed  his  apologies. 

But  the  other,  like  those  cowards  who  think  they  have 
found  a  greater  coward  than  themselves,  was  pouring 
forth  a  torrent  of  the  grossest  insults. 

M.  de  Tregars  was  lifting  his  hand  to  administer 
a  well-deserved  correction,  when  suddenly  the  scene  in 
the  grand  parlor  of  the  Thaller  mansion  came  back  viv- 
idly to  his  mind.  He  saw  again,  as  in  the  glass,  the  ill- 
looking  man  listening,  with  an  anxious  look,  to  Mme.  de 
Thaller's  propositions,  and  afterwards  sitting  down  to 
write. 

"  That's  it ! ''  he  exclaimed,  a  multitude  of  circum- 
stances occurring  to  his  mind,  which  had  escaped  him  at 
the  moment. 

And,  without  further  reflection,  seizing  his  adversary 
by  the  throat,  he  threw  him  over  on  the  table,  holding 
him  down  with  his  knee. 

"  I  am  sure  he  must  have  the  letter  about  him,"  he 
said  to  the  people  who  surrounded  him. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  479 

And  in  fact  he  did  take  from  the  side-pocket  of  the 
villain  a  letter,  which  he  unfolded,  and  commenced  read- 
ing aloud, — 

"  I  am  waiting  for  you,  my  dear  major,  come  quick, 
for  the  thing  is  pressing, — a  troublesome  gentleman  who 
is  to  be  made  to  keep  quiet.  It  will  be  for  you  the  mat- 
ter of  a  sword-thrust,  and  for  us  the  occasion  to  divide 
a  round  amount." 

"  And,  that's  why  he  picked  a  quarrel  with  me,"  added 
M.  de  Tregars. 

Two  waiters  had  taken  hold  of  the  villain,  who  was 
struggling  furiously,  and  wanted  to  surrender  him  to 
the  police. 

"  What's  the  use?  "  said  Marius.  "  I  have  his  letter: 
that's  enough.  The  police  will  find  him  when  they  want 
him." 

And,  getting  back  into  his  cab, — 

"  Rue  St.  Gilles,"  he  ordered,  "  and  lively,  if  possi- 
ble." 


VIII. 

IN  the  Rue  St.  Gilles  the  hours  were  dragging,  slow 
and  gloomy.  After  Maxence  had  left  to  go  and  meet  M. 
de  Tregars,  Mme.  Favoral  and  her  daughter  had  re- 
mained alone  with  M.  Chapelain,  and  had  been  com- 
pelled to  bear  the  brunt  of  his  wrath,  and  to  hear  his  in- 
terminable complaints. 

He  was  certainly  an  excellent  man,  that  old  lawyer, 
and  too  just  to  hold  Mile.  Gilberte  or  her  mother  respon- 
sible for  Vincent  Favoral's  acts.  He  spoke  the  truth 
when  he  assured  them  that  he  had  for  them  a  sincere 
affection,  and  that  they  might  rely  upon  his  devotion. 
But  he  was  losing  a  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  francs ; 


480  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

and  a  man  who  loses  such  a  large  sum  is  naturally  in 
bad  humor,  and  not  much  disposed  to  optimism. 

The  cruellest  enemies  of  the  poor  women  would  not 
have  tortured  them  so  mercilessly  as  this  devoted  friend. 

He  spared  them  not  one  sad  detail  of  that  meeting  at 
the  Mutual  Credit  office,  from  which  he  had  just  come. 
He  exaggerated  the  proud  assurance  of  the  manager, 
and  the  confiding  simplicity  of  the  stockholders.  "  That 
Baron  de  Thaller,"  he  said  to  them,  "  is  certainly  the 
most  impudent  scoundrel  and  the  cleverest  rascal  I  have 
ever  seen.  You'll  see  that  he'll  get  out  of  it  with  clean 
hands  and  full  pockets.  Whether  or  not  he  has  accom- 
plices, Vincent  will  be  the  scapegoat.  "We  must  make  up 
our  mind  to  that." 

His  positive  intention  was  to  console  Mme.  Favoral 
and  Gilberte.  Had  he  sworn  to  drive  them  to  distraction, 
he  could  not  have  succeeded  better. 

"  Poor  woman !  "  he  said,  "  what  is  to  become  of  you  ? 
Maxence  is  a  good  and  honest  fellow,  I  am  sure,  but 
so  weak,  so  thoughtless,  so  fond  of  pleasure !  He  finds 
it  difficult  enough  to  get  along  by  himself.  Of  what  as- 
sistance will  he  be  to  you  ?  " 

Then  came  advice. 

Mme.  Favoral,  he  declared,  should  not  hesitate  to  ask 
for  a  separation,  which  the  tribunal  would  certainly 
grant.  For  want  of  this  precaution,  she  would  remain 
all  her  life  under  the  burden  of  her  husband's  debts, 
and  constantly  exposed  to  the  annoyances  of  the  cred- 
itors. 

And  always  he  wound  up  by  saying, — 

"Who  could  ever  have  expected  such  a  thing  from 
Vincent, — a  friend  of  twenty  years'  standing!  A  hun- 
dred and  sixty  thousand  francs !  Who  in  the  world  can- 
be  trusted  hereafter  ?  " 


And  in  fact  he  did  take  from  the  side  pocket  of  the  villain  a  letter 
which  he  unfolded  and  commenced  reading  aloud. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  481 

Big  tears  were  rolling  slowly  down  Mme.  Favoral's 
withered  cheeks.  But  Mile.  Gilberte  was  of  those  for 
whom  the  pity  of  others  is  the  worst  misfortune  and  the 
most  acute  suffering. 

Twenty  times  she  was  on  the  point  of  exclaim- 
ing— 

*'  Keep  your  compassion,  sir :  we  are  neither  so  much 
to  be  pitied  nor  so  much  forsaken  as  you  think.  Our 
misfortune  has  revealed  to  us  a  true  friend, — one  who 
aoes  not  speak,  but  acts." 

At  last,  as  twelve  o'clock  struck,  M.  Chapelain  with- 
drew, announcing  that  he  would  return  the  next  day  to 
get  the  news,  and  to  bring  further  consolation. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  we  are  alone  at  last ! "  said  Mile. 
Gilberte. 

But  they  had  not  much  peace,  for  all  that. 

Great  as  had  been  the  noise  of  Vincent  Favoral's  dis- 
aster, it  had  not  reached  at  once  all  those  who  had  in- 
trusted their  savings  to  him.  All  day  long,  the  belated 
creditors  kept  coming  in ;  and  the  scenes  of  the  morning 
were  renewed  on  a  smaller  scale.  Then  legal  sum- 
monses began  to  pour  in,  three  or  four  at  a  time.  Mme. 
Favoral  was  losing  all  courage. 

"  What  disgrace !  "  she  groaned.  "  Will  it  always  be 
so  hereafter  ?  " 

And  she  exhausted  herself  in  useless  conjectures  upon 
the  causes  of  the  catastrophe ;  and  such  was  the  disorder 
of  her  mind,  that  she  knew  not  what  to  hope  and  what 
to  fear,  and  that  from  one  minute  to  another  she  wished 
for  the  most  contradictory  things. 

She  would  have  been  glad  to  hear  that  her  husband 
was  safe  out  of  the  country,  and  yet  she  would  have 
deemed  herself  less  miserable,  had  she  known  that  he 
was  hid  somewhere  in  Paris. 


482  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And  obstinately  the  same  questions  returned  to  hei 
lips, — 

"Where  is  he  now?  What  is  he  doing?  What  is 
he  thinking  about?  How  can  he  leave  us  without 
news?  Is  it  possible  that  it  is  a  woman  who  has 
driven  him  into  the  precipice?  And,  if  so,  who  is  that 
woman  ?  " 

Very  different  were  Mile.  Gilberte's  thoughts. 

The  great  calamity  that  befell  her  family  had  brought 
about  the  sudden  realization  of  her  hopes.  Her  father's 
disaster  had  given  her  an  opportunity  to  test  the  man 
she  loved;  and  she  had  found  him  even  superior  to  all 
that  she  could  have  dared  to  dream.  The  name  of  Fa- 
voral  was  forever  disgraced;  but  she  was  going  to  be 
the  wife  of  Marius,  Marquise  de  Tregars. 

And,  in  the  candor  of  her  loyal  soul,  she  accused  her- 
self of  not  taking  enough  interest  in  her  mother's  grief, 
and  reproached  herself  for  the  quivers  of  joy  which  she 
felt  within  her. 

"  Where  is  Maxence  ? "  asked  Mme.  Favoral. 
"  Where  is  M.  de  Tregars  ?  Why  have  they  told  us 
nothing  of  their  projects?  " 

"  They  will,  no  doubt,  come  home  to  dinner,"  re- 
plied Mile.  Gilberte. 

So  well  was  she  convinced  of  this,  that  she  had  given 
orders  to  the  servant  to  have  a  somewhat  better  dinner 
than  usual ;  and  her  heart  was  beating  at  the  thought  of 
being  seated  near  Marius,  between  her  mother  and  her 
brother. 

At  about  six  o'clock,  the  bell  rang  violently. 

"  There  he  is !  "  said  the  young  girl,  rising  to  her 
feet. 

But  no:  it  was  only  the  porter,  bringing  up  a  sum- 
mons ordering  Mme.  Favoral,  under  penalty  of  the  law, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  483 

to  appear  the  next  day,  at  one  o'clock  precisely,  before 
the  examining  judge,  Barban  d'Avranchel,  at  his  office 
in  the  Palace  of  Justice. 

The  poor  woman  came  near  fainting. 

"  What  can  this  judge  want  with  me?  It  ought  to  be 
forbidden  to  call  a  wife  to  testify  against  her  husband," 
she  said. 

"  M.  de  Tregars  will  tell  you  what  to  answer, 
mamma/'  said  Mile.  Gilberte. 

Meantime,  seven  o'clock  came,  then  eight,  and  still 
neither  Maxence  nor  M.  de  Tregars  had  come. 

Both  mother  and  daughter  were  becoming  anxious, 
when  at  last,  a  little  before  nine,  they  heard  steps  in  the 
hall. 

Marius  de  Tregars  appeared  almost  immediately. 

He  was  pale;  and  his  face  bore  the  trace  of  the  crush- 
ing fatigues  of  the  day,  of  the  cares  which  oppressed 
him,  of  the  reflections  which  had  been  suggested  to  his 
mind  by  the  quarrel  of  which  he  had  nearly  been  the  vic- 
tim a  few  moments  since. 

"  Maxence  is  not  here  ?  "  he  asked  at  once. 

"  We  have  not  seen  him,"  answered  Mile.  Gilberte. 

He  seemed  so  much  surprised,  that  Mme.  Favoral  was 
frightened. 

"  What  is  the  matter  again,  good  God ! "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Nothing,  madame,"  said  M.  de  Tregars, — "  noth- 
ing that  should  alarm  you.  Compelled,  about  two  hours 
ago,  to  part  from  Maxence,  I  was  to  have  met  him  here.' 
Since  he  has  not  come,  he  must  have  been  detained.  I 
know  where ;  and  I  will  ask  your  permission  to  run  and 
join  him." 

He  went  out ;  but  Mile.  Gilberte  followed  him  in  the 
hall,  and,  taking  his  hand, — 


484  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  How  kind  of  you !  "  she  began,  "  and  how  can  we 
ever  sufficiently  thank  you  ?  " 

He  interrupted  her. 

"  You  owe  me  no  thanks,  my  beloved ;  for,  in  what  I 
am  doing,  there  is  more  selfishness  than  you  think.  It 
is  my  own  cause,  more  than  yours,  that  I  am  defending. 
Any  way,  every  thing  is  going  on  well." 

And,  without  giving  any  more  explanations,  he  started 
again.  He  had  no  doubt  that  Maxence,  after  leaving 
him,  had -run  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies  to  give  to  Mile. 
Lucienne  an  account  of  the  day's  work.  And,  though 
somewhat  annoyed  that  he  had  tarried  so  long,  on  second 
thought,  he  was  not  surprised. 

It  was,  therefore,  to  the  Hotel  des  Folies  that  he  was 
going.  Now  that  he  had  unmasked  his  batteries  and  be- 
gun the  struggle,  he  was  not  sorry  to  meet  Mile  Lu- 
cienne. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  he  had  reached  the  Boule- 
vard du  Temple.  In  front  of  the  Fortins'  narrow  corri- 
dor a  dozen  idlers  were  standing,  talking. 

M.  de  Tregars  was  listening  as  he  went  along. 

"  It  is  a  frightful  accident,"  said  one, — "  such  a  pretty 
girl,  and  so  young  too !  " 

"  As  to  me,"  said  another,  "  it  is  the  driver  that  I 
pity  the  most;  for  after  all,  if  that  pretty  miss  was  in 
that  carriage,  it  was  for  her  own  pleasure ;  whereas,  the 
poor  coachman  was  only  attending  to  his  business." 

A  confused  presentiment  oppressed  M.  de  Tregars' 
heart.  Addressing  himself  to  one  of  those  worthy  citi- 
zens,— 

"  Have  you  heard  any  particulars  ?  "  he  inquired. 

Flattered  by  the  confidence, — 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  he  replied.  "  I  didn't  see  the 
thing  with  my  own  proper  eyes;  but  my  wife  did.  It 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  485 

was  terrible.  The  carriage,  a  magnificent  private  car- 
riage too,  came  from  the  direction  of  the  Madeleine.  The 
horses  had  run  away ;  and  already  there  had  been  an  ac- 
cident in  the  Place  du  Chateau  d'Eau,  where  an  old 
woman  had  been  knocked  down.  Suddenly,  here,  over 
there,  opposite  the  toy-shop,  which  is  mine,  by  the  way, 
the  wheel  of  the  carriage  catches  into  the  wheel  of  an 
enormous  truck;  and  at  once,  palata!  the  coachman  is 
thrown  down,  and  so  is  the  lady,  who  was  inside, — a 
very  pretty  girl,  who  lives  in  this  hotel." 

Leaving  there  the  obliging  narrator,  M.  de  Tregars 
rushed  through  the  narrow  corridor  of  the  Hotel  des 
Folies.  At  the  moment  when  he  reached  the  yard,  he 
found  himself  in  presence  of  Maxence. 

Pale,  his  head  bare,  his  eyes  wild,  shaking  with  a  ner- 
vous chill,  the  poor  fellow  looked  like  a  madman.  Notic- 
ing M.  de  Tregars, — 

"  Ah,  my  friend !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  misfor- 
tune !  " 

"  Lucienne  ?  " 

"  Dead,  perhaps.  The  doctor  will  not  answer  for  her 
recovery.  I  am  going  to  the  druggist's  to  get  a  prescrip- 
tion." 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  commissary  of  police, 
whose  kind  protection  had  hitherto  preserved  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne. He  was  coming  out  of  the  little  room  on  the 
ground-floor,  which  the  Fortins  used  for  an  office,  bed- 
room, and  dining-room. 

He  had  recognized  Marius  de  Tregars,  and,  coming 
up  to  him,  he  pressed  his  hand,  saying,  "  Well,  you 
know?" 

"  Yes." 

"  It  is  my  fault,  M.  le  Marquis ;  for  we  were  fully 
notified.  I  knew  so  well  that  Mile.  Lucienne's  existence 


486  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

was  threatened,  I  was  so  fully  expecting  a  new  attempt 
upon  her  life,  that,  whenever  she  went  out  riding,  it  was 
one  of  my  men,  wearing  a  footman's  livery,  who  took 
his  seat  by  the  side  of  the  coachman.  To-day  my  man 
was  so  busy,  that  I  said  to  myself,  '  Bash,  for  once ! ' 
And  behold  the  consequences !  " 

It  was  with  inexpressible  astonishment  that  Maxence 
was  listening.  It  was  with  a  profound  stupor  that  he  dis- 
covered between  Marius  and  the  commissary  that  seri- 
ous intimacy  which  is  the  result  of  long  intercourse,  real 
esteem,  and  common  hopes. 

"  It  is  not  an  accident,  then,"  remarked  M.  de  Tre- 
gars. 

"  No." 

"  The  coachman  has  spoken,  doubtless  ?  " 

"  No :  the  wretch  was  killed  on  the  spot." 

And,  without  waiting  for  another  question, — 

"  But  don't  let  us  stay  here,"  said  the  commissary. 
"  Whilst  Maxence  runs  to  the  drug-store,  let  us  go  into 
the  Fortins'  office." 

The  husband  was  alone  there,  the  wife  being  at  that 
moment  with  Mile.  Lucienne. 

"  Do  me  the  favor  to  go  and  take  a  walk  for  about 
fifteen  minutes,"  said  the  commissary  to  him. "We  have 
to  talk,  this  gentleman  and  myself." 

Humbly,  without  a  word,  and  like  a  man  who  does 
himself  justice,  M.  Fortin  slipped  off. 

And  at  once, — "  It  is  clear,  M.  le  Marquis,  it  is  mani- 
fest, that  a  crime  has  been  committed.  Listen,  and  judge 
for  yourself.  I  was  just  rising  from  dinner,  when  I  was 
notified  of  what  was  called  our  poor  Lucienne's  accident. 
Without  even  changing  my  clothes,  I  ran.  The  carriage 
was  lying  in  the  street,  broken  to  pieces.  Two  police- 
men were  holding  the  horses,  which  had  been  stopped. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  487 

I  inquire.  I  learn  that  Lucienne,  picked  up  by  Maxence, 
has  been  able  to  drag  herself  as  far  as  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  and  that  the  driver  has  been  taken  to  the  nearest 
drug-store.  Furious  at  my  own  negligence,  and  tor- 
mented by  vague  suspicions,  it  is  to  the  druggist's  that 
I  go  first,  and  in  all  haste.  The  driver  was  in  a  back- 
room, stretched  on  a  mattress. 

"  His  head  having  struck  the  angle  of  the  curbstone, 
his  skull  was  broken;  and  he  had  just  breathed  his  last. 
It  was,  apparently,  the  annihilation  of  the  hope  which  I 
had,  of  enlightening  myself  by  questioning  this  man. 
Nevertheless,  I  give  orders  to  have  him  searched.  No 
paper  is  discovered  upon  him  to  establish  his  identity; 
but,  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  his  pantaloons,  do  you 
know  what  they  find?  Two  bank-notes  of  a  thousand 
francs  each,  carefully  wrapped  up  in  a  fragment  of 
newspaper." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  shuddered. 

"  What  a  revelation !  "  he  murmured. 

It  was  not  to  the  present  circumstance  that  he  applied 
that  word.  But  the  commissary  naturally  mistook  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on,  "  it  was  a  revelation.  To  me 
these  two  thousand  francs  were  worth  a  confession: 
they  could  only  be  the  wages  of  a  crime.  So,  without 
losing  a  moment,  I  jump  into  a  cab,  and  drive  to 
Brion's.  Everybody  was  upside  down,  because  the 
horses  had  just  been  brought  back.  I  question;  and, 
from  the  very  first  words,  the  correctness  of  my  pre- 
sumption is  demonstrated  to  me.  The  wretch  who  had 
just  died  was  not  one  of  Brion's  coachmen.  This  is  what 
had  happened.  At  two  o'clock,  when  the  carriage  or- 
dered by  M.  Van  Klopen  was  ready  to  go  for  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne, they  had  been  compelled  to  send  for  the  driver 
and  the  footman,  who  had  forgotten  themselves  drink- 


488  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

ing  in  a  neighboring  wine-shop,  with  a  man  who  had 
called  to  see  them  in  the  morning.  They  were  slightly 
under  the  influence  of  wine,  but  not  enough  so  to  make 
it  imprudent  to  trust  them  with  horses ;  and  it  was  even 
probable  that  the  fresh  air  would  sober  them  completely. 
They  had  then  started ;  but  they  had  not  gone  very  far, 
for  one  of  their  comrades  had  seen  them  stop  the  car- 
riage in  front  of  a  wine-shop,  and  join  there  the  same  in- 
dividual with  whom  they  had  been  drinking  all  the 
morning  " — 

"  And  who  was  no  other  than  the  man  who  was 
killed?" 

"  Wait.  Having  obtained  this  information,  I  get  some 
one  to  take  me  to  the  wine-shop;  and  I  ask  for  the 
coachman  and  the  footman  from  Brion's.  They  were 
there  still ;  and  they  are  shown  to  me  in  a  private  room, 
lying  on  the  floor,  fast  asleep.  I  try  to  wake  them  up,  but 
in  vain.  I  order  to  water  them  freely ;  but  a  pitcher  of 
water  thrown  on  their  faces  has  no  effect,  save  to  make 
them  utter  an  inarticulate  groan.  I  guess  at  once  what 
they  have  taken.  I  send  for  a  physician,  and  I  call  on 
the  wine-merchant  for  explanations.  It  is  his  wife  and 
his  barkeeper  who  answer  me.  They  tell  me,  that,  at 
about  two  o'clock,  a  man  came  in  the  shop,  who  stated 
that  he  was  employed  at  Brion's,  and  who  ordered  three 
glasses  for  himself  and  two  comrades,  whom  he  was  ex- 
pecting. 

"  A  few  moments  later,  a  carriage  stops  at  the  door ; 
and  the  driver  and  the  footman  leave  it  to  come  in.  They 
were  in  a  great  hurry,  they  said,  and  only  wished  to  take 
one  glass.  They  do  take  three,  one  after  another;  then 
they  order  a  bottle.  They  were  evidently  forgetting  their 
horses,  which  they  had  given  to  hold  to  a  commission- 
aire. Soon  the  man  proposes  a  game.  The  others  ac- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  489 

cept;  and  here  they  are,  settled  in  the  back-room,  knock- 
ing on  the  table  for  sealed  wine.  The  game  must  have 
lasted  at  least  twenty  minutes.  At  the  end  of  that  time, 
the  man  who  had  come  in  first  appeared,  looking  very 
much  annoyed,  saying  that  it  was  very  unpleasant,  that 
his  comrades  were  dead  drunk,  that  they  will  miss  their 
work,  and  that  the  boss,  who  is  anxious  to  please  his 
customers,  will  certainly  dismiss  them.  Although  he 
had  taken  as  much,  and  more  than  the  rest,  he  was  per- 
fectly steady ;  and,  after  reflecting  for  a  moment, — 

' '  I  have  an  idea,'  he  says.  '  Friends  should  help  each 
other,  shouldn't  they  ?  I  am  going  to  take  the  coachman's 
livery,  and  drive  in  his  stead.  I  happen  to  know  the  cus- 
tomer they  were  going  after.  She  is  a  very  kind  old 
lady,  and  I'll  tell  her  a  story  to  explain  the  absence  of 
the  footman.' 

"  Convinced  that  the  man  is  in  Brion's  employment, 
they  have  no  objection  to  offer  to  this  fine  project. 

"  The  brigand  puts  on  the  livery  of  the  sleeping  coach- 
man, gets  up  on  the  box,  and  starts  off,  after  stating  that 
he  will  return  for  his  comrades  as  soon  as  he  has  got 
through  the  job,  and  that  doubtless  they  will  be  sober  by 
that  time." 

M.  de  Tregars  knew  well  enough  the  savoir-faire  of 
the  commissary  not  to  be  surprised  at  his  promptness  in 
obtaining  precise  information. 

Already  he  was  going  on, — 

"  Just  as  I  was  closing  my  examination,  the  doctor  ar- 
rived. I  show  him  my  drunkards;  and  at  once  he  rec- 
ognizes that  I  have  guessed  correctly,  and  that  these 
men  have  been  put  asleep  by  means  of  one  of  those  nar- 
cotics of  which  certain  thieves  make  use  to  rob  their  vic- 
tims. A  potion,  which  he  administers  to  them  by  forcing 
tlieir  teeth  open  with  a  knife,  draws  them  from  this 


490  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

lethargy.  They  open  their  eyes,  and  soon  are  in  condi- 
tion to  reply  to  my  questions.  They  are  furious  at  the 
trick  that  has  been  played  upon  them;  but  they  do  not 
know  the  man.  They  saw  him,  they  swear  to  me,  for  the 
first  time  that  very  morning ;  and  they  are  ignorant  even 
of  his  name." 

There  was  no  doubt  possible  after  such  complete  ex- 
planations. The  commissary  had  'seen  correctly,  and  he 
proved  it. 

It  was  not  of  a  vulgar  accident  that  Mile.  Lucienne 
had  just  been  the  victim,  but  of  a  crime  laboriously 
conceived,  and  executed  with  unheard-of  audacity, — 
of  one  of  those  crimes  such  as  too  many  are  com- 
mitted, whose  combinations,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  set 
aside  even  a  suspicion,  and  foil  all  the  efforts  of  human 
justice. 

M.  de  Tregars  knew  now  what  had  taken  place,  as 
clearly  as  if  he  had  himself  received  the  confession  of  the 
guilty  parties. 

A  man  had  been  found  to  execute  that  perilous  pro- 
gramme,— to  make  the  horses  run  away,  and  then  to  run 
into  some  heavy  wagon.  The  wretch  was  staking  his 
life  on  that  game ;  it  being  evident  that  the  light  carriage 
must  be  smashed  in  a  thousand  pieces.  But  he  must  have 
relied  upon  his  skill  arid  his  presence  of  mind,  to  avoid 
the  shock,  to  jump  off  safe  and  sound ;  whilst  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne, thrown  upon  the  pavement,  would  probably  be 
killed  on  the  spot.  The  event  had  deceived  his  expecta- 
tions, and  he  had  been  the  victim  of  his  rascality ;  but  his 
death  was  a  misfortune. 

"  Because  now,"  resumed  the  commissary,  "  the 
thread  is  broken  in  our  hands  which  would  infallibly 
have  led  us  to  the  truth.  Who  is  it  that  ordered  the 
crime,  and  paid  for  it  ?  We  know  it,  since  we  know  who 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  491 

benefits  by  the  crime.  But  that  is  not  sufficient.  Justice 
requires  something  more  than  moral  proofs.  Living, 
this  bandit  would  have  spoken.  His  death  insures  the 
impunity  of  the  wretches  of  whom  he  was  but  the  in- 
strument." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  M.  Tregars. 

And  at  the  same  time  he  took  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
showed  the  note  found  in  Vincent  Favoral's  pocket- 
book, — that  note,  so  obscure  the  day  before,  now  so  ter- 
ribly clear : — 

"  I  cannot  understand  your  negligence.  You  should 
get  through  with  that  Van  Klopen  affair:  there  is  the 
danger." 

The  commissary  of  police  cast  but  a  glance  upon  it, 
and,  replying  to  the  objections  of  his  old  experience 
rather  more  than  addressing  himself  to  M.  de  Tre- 
gars,— 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  about  it,"  he  murmured.  "  It 
is  to  the  crime  committed  to-day  that  these  pressing  rec- 
ommendations relate;  and,  directed  as  they  are  to  Vin- 
cent Favoral,  they  attest  his  complicity.  It  was  he  who 
had  charge  of  finishing  the  Van  Klopen  affair ;  in  other 
words,  to  get  rid  of  Lucienne.  It  was  he,  I'd  wager  my 
head,  who  had  treated  with  the  false  coachman." 

He  remained  for  over  a  minute  absorbed  in  his  own 
thoughts,  then, — 

"  But  who  is  the  author  of  these  recommendations  to 
Vincent  Favoral  ?  Do  you  know  that,  M.  le  Marquis  ?  " 
he  said. 

They  looked  at  each  other;  and  the  same  name  rose 
to  their  lips, — 

"  The  Baroness  de  Thaller !  " 

This  name,  however,  they  did  not  utter. 

The  commissary  had  placed  himself  under  the  gas- 


492  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

burner  which  gave  light  to  the  Fortin's  office;  and,  ad- 
justing his  glasses,  he  was  scrutinizing  the  note  with 
the  most  minute  attention,  studying  the  grain  and  the 
transparency  of  the  paper,  the  ink,  and  the  handwriting. 
And  at  last, — 

"  This  note,"  he  declared,  "  cannot  constitute  a  proof 
against  its  author:  I  mean  an  evident,  material  proof, 
such  as  we  require  to  obtain  from  a  judge  an  order  of 
arrest." 

And,  as  Marius  was  protesting, — 

"  This  note,"  he  insisted,  "  is  written  with  the  left 
hand,  with  common  ink,  on  ordinary  foolscap  paper, 
such  as  is  found  everywhere.  Now  all  left-hand  writ- 
ings look  alike.  Draw  your  own  conclusions." 

But  M.  de  Tregars  did  not  give  it  up  yet. 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  he  interrupted. 

And  briefly,  though  with  the  utmost  exactness,  he  be- 
gan telling  his  visit  to  the  Thaller  mansion,  his  conversa- 
tion with  Mile.  Cesarine,  then  with  the  baroness,  and 
finally  with  the  baron  himself. 

He  described  in  the  most  graphic  manner  the  scene 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  grand  parlor  between 
Mme.  de  Thaller  and  a  worse  than  suspicious-looking 
man, — that  scene,  the  secret  of  which  had  been  revealed 
to  him  in  its  minutest  details  by  the  looking-glass.  Its 
meaning  was  now  as  clear  as  day. 

This  suspicious-looking  man  had  been  one  of  the 
agents  in  arranging  the  intended  murder :  hence  the  agi- 
tation of  the  baroness  when  she  had  received  his  card, 
and  her  haste  to  join  him.  If  she  had  started  when  he 
first  spoke  to  her,  it  was  because  he  was  telling  her  of  the 
successful  execution  of  the  crime.  If  she  had  afterwards 
made  a  gesture  of  joy,  it  was  because  he  had  just  in- 
formed her  that  the  coachman  had  been  killed  at  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  493 

same  time,  and  that  she  found  herself  thus  rid  of  a  dan- 
gerous accomplice. 

The  commissary  of  police  shook  his  head. 

"  All  this  is  quite  probable,"  he  murmured ;  "  but 
that's  all." 

Again  M.  de  Tregars  stopped  him. 

"  I  have  not  done  yet,"  he  said. 

And  he  went  on  saying  how  he  had  been  suddenly  and 
brutally  assaulted  by  an  unknown  man  in  a  restaurant; 
how  he  had  collared  this  abject  scoundrel,  and  taken  out 
of  his  pocket  a  crushing  letter,  which  left  no  doubt  as  to 
the  nature  of  his  mission. 

The  commissary's  eyes  were  sparkling, — 

"  That  letter !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  that  letter !  " 

And,  as  soon  as  he  had  looked  over  it, — 

"  Ah !  This  time,"  he  resumed,  "  I  think  that  we 
have  something  tangible.  '  A  troublesome  gentleman 
to  keep  quiet/ — the  Marquis  de  Tregars,  of  course,  who 
is  on  the  right  track.  '  It  will  be  for  you  the  matter  of 
a  sword-thrust.'  Naturally,  dead  men  tell  no  tales.  '  It 
will  be  for  us  the  occasion  of  dividing  a  round  amount.' 
An  honest  trade,  indeed !  " 

The  good  man  was  rubbing  his  hand  with  all  his 
might. 

"  At  last  we  have  a  positive  fact,"  he  went  on, — "  a 
foundation  upon  which  to  base  our  accusations.  Don't 
be  uneasy.  That  letter  is  going  to  place  into  our  hands 
the  scoundrel  who  assaulted  you, — who  will  make 
known  the  go-between,  who  himself  will  not  fail  to  sur- 
render the  Baroness  de  Thaller.  Lucienne  shall  be 
avenged.  If  we  could  only  now  lay  our  hands  on  Vin- 
cent Favoral !  But  we'll  find  him  yet.  I  set  two  fellows 
after  him  this  afternoon,  who  have  a  superior  scent,  and 
understand  their  business." 


494  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

He  was  here  interrupted  by  Maxence,  who  was  re- 
turning  all  out  of  breath,  holding  in  his  hand  the  medi- 
cines which  he  had  gone  after. 

"  I  thought  that  druggist  would  never  get  through," 
he  said. 

And  regretting  to  have  remained  away  so  long,  feel- 
ing uneasy,  and  anxious  to  return  up  stairs, — 

"  Don't  you  wish  to  see  Lucienne  ?  "  he  added,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  M.  de  Tregars  rather  more  than  to 
the  commissary. 

For  all  answer,  they  followed  him  at  once. 

A  cheerless-looking  place  was  Mile.  Lucienne's  room, 
without  any  furniture  but  a  narrow  iron  bedstead,  a  di- 
lapidated bureau,  four  straw-bottomed  chairs,  and  a 
small  table.  Over  the  bed,  and  at  the  windows,  were 
white  muslin  curtains,  with  an  edging  that  had  once 
been  blue,  but  had  become  yellow  from  repeated  wash- 
ings. 

Often  Maxence  had  begged  his  friend  to  take  a  more 
comfortable  lodging,  and  always  she  had  refused. 

"  We  must  economize,"  she  would  say.  "  This  room 
does  well  enough  for  me ;  and,  besides,  I  am  accustomed 
to  it." 

When  M.  de  Tregars  and  the  commissary  walked  in, 
the  estimable  hostess  of  the  Hotel  des  Folies  was  kneel- 
ing in  front  of  the  fire,  preparing  some  medicine. 

Hearing  the  footsteps,  she  got  up,  and,  with  a  finger 
upon  her  lips, — 

"  Hush !  "  she  said.  "  Take  care  not  to  wake  her  up !  " 

The  precaution  was  useless. 

"  I  am  not  asleep,"  said  Mile.  Lucienne  in  a  feeble 
voice.  "Who  is  there?" 

"  I,"  replied  Maxence,  advancing  towards  the  bed. 

It  was  only  necessary  to  see  the  poor  girl  in  order  to 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  495 

understand  Maxence's  frightful  anxiety.  She  was 
whiter  than  the  sheet;  and  fever,  that  horrible  fever 
which  follows  severe  wounds,  gave  to  her  eyes  a  sinister 
lustre. 

"  But  you  are  not  alone,"  she  said  again. 

"  I  am  with  him,  my  child,"  replied  the  commissary. 
"  I  come  to  beg  your  pardon  for  having  so  badly  pro- 
tected you." 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  sad  and  gentle  motion. 

"  It  was  myself  who  lacked  prudence,"  she  said ;  "  for 
to-day,  while  out,  I  thought  I  noticed  something  wrong ; 
but  it  looked  so  foolish  to  be  afraid !  If  it  had  not  hap- 
pened to-day,  it  would  have  happened  some  other  day. 
The  villains  who  have  been  pursuing  me  for  years  must 
be  satisfied  now.  They  will  soon  be  rid  of  me." 

"  Lucienne,"  said  Maxence  in  a  sorrowful  tone 

M.  de  Tregars  now  stepped  forward. 

"  You  shall  live,  mademoiselle,"  he  uttered  in  a  grave 
voice.  "  You  shall  live  to  learn  to  love  life." 

And,  as  she  was  looking  at  him  in  surprise, — 

"  You  do  not  know  me,"  he  added. 

Timidly,  and  as  if  doubting  the  reality, — 

"  You,"  she  said,  "  the  Marquis  de  Tregars !  " 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  your  brother." 

Had  he  had  the  control  of  events,  Marius  de  Tregars 
would  probably  not  have  been  in  such  haste  to  reveal 
this  fact. 

But  how  could  he  control  himself  in  presence  of  that 
bed  where  a  poor  girl  was,  perhaps,  about  to  die,  sacri- 
ficed to  the  terrors  and  to  the  cravings  of  the  miserable 
woman  who  was  her  mother, — to  die  at  twenty,  victim  of 
the  basest  and  most  odious  of  crimes?  How  could  he 
help  feeling  an  intense  pity  at  the  sight  of  this  unfortu- 
nate young  woman  who  had  endured  every  -thing  that  a 


496  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

human  being  can  suffer,  whose  life  had  been  but  a  long 
and  painful  struggle,  whose  courage  had  risen  above 
all  the  woes  of  adversity,  and  who  had  been  able  to  pass 
without  a  stain  through  the  mud  and  mire  of  Paris. 

Besides,  Marius  was  not  one  of  those  men  who  mis- 
trust their  first  impulse,  who  manifest  their  emotion  only 
for  a  purpose,  who  reflect  and  calculate  before  giving 
themselves  up  to  the  inspirations  of  their  heart. 

Lucienne  was  the  daughter  of  the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gars:  of  that  he  was  absolutely  certain.  He  knew  that 
the  same  blood  flowed  in  his  veins  and  in  hers;  and  he 
told  her  so. 

He  told  her  so,  above  all,  because  he  believed  her  in 
danger ;  and  he  wished,  were  she  to  die,  that  she  should 
have,  at  least,  that  supreme  joy. 

Poor  Lucienne!  Never  had  she  dared  to  dream  of 
such  happiness.  All  her  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks ;  and, 
in  a  voice  vibrating  with  the  most  intense  emotion, — 

"  Ah !  now,  yes,"  she  uttered,  "  I  would  like  to  live." 

The  commissary  of  police,  also,  felt  moved. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  my  child,"  he  said  in  his  kindest 
tone.  "  Before  two  weeks  you  will  be  up.  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  is  a  great  physician." 

In  the  mean  time,  she  had  attempted  to  raise  herself 
on  her  pillow ;  and  that  simple  effort  had  wrung  from 
her  a  cry  of  anguish. 

"  Dear  me !  How  I  do  suffer !  " 

"  That's  because  you  won't  keep  quiet,  my  darling," 
said  Mme.  Fortin  in  a  tone  of  gentle  scolding.  "  Have 
you  forgotten  that  the  doctor  has  expressly  forbidden 
you  to  stir?" 

Then  taking  aside  the  commissary,  Maxence,  and  M. 
de  Tregars.  she  explained  to  them  how  imprudent  it  was 
to  disturb  Mile.  Lucienne's  rest.  She  was  very  ill, 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  497, 

affirmed  the  worthy  hostess;  and  her  advice  was,  that 
they  should  send  for  a  sick-nurse  as  soon  as  possible. 

She  would  have  been  extremely  happy,  of  course,  to 
spend  the  night  by  the  side  of  her  dear  lodger ;  but,  un- 
fortunately, she  could  not  think  of  it,  the  hotel  requiring 
all  her  time  and  attention.  Fortunately,  however,  she 
knew  in  -the  neighborhood  a  widow,  a  very  honest 
woman,  and  without  her  equal  in  taking  care  of  the 
sick. 

With  an  anxious  and  beseeching  look,  Maxence  was 
consulting  M.  de  Tregars.  In  his  eyes  could  be  read  the 
proposition  that  was  burning  upon  his  lips, — 

"  Shall  I  not  go  for  Gilberte?  " 

But  that  proposition  he  had  no  time  to  express. 
Though  they  had  been  speaking  very  low,  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne  had  heard. 

"  I  have  a  friend,"  she  said,  "  who  would  certainly  be 
willing  to  sit  up  with  me." 

They  all  went  up  to  her. 

"  What  friend,"  inquired  the  commissary  of  po- 
lice. 

"  You  know  her  very  well,  sir.  It  is  that  poor  girl 
who  had  taken  me  home  with  her  at  Batignolles  when  I 
left  the  hospital,  who  came  to  my  assistance  during  the 
Commune,  and  whom  you  helped  to  get  out  of  the  Ver- 
sailles prisons." 

"  Do  you  know  what  has  become  of  her  ?  " 

"  Only  since  yesterday,  when  I  received  a  letter  from 
her,  a  very  friendly  letter.  She  writes  that  she  has  found 
money  to  set  up  a  dressmaking  establishment,  and 
that  she  is  relying  upon  me  to  be  her  forewoman.  She  is 
going  to  open  in  the  Rue  St.  Lazare ;  but,  in  the  mean 
time,  she  is  stopping  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque." 

M.  de  Tregars  and  Maxence  had  started  slightly. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  What  is  your  friend's  name  ?  "  they  inquired  at  once. 

"  Zelie  Cadelle." 

Not  being  aware  of  the  particulars  of  the  two  young 
men's  visit  to  the  Rue  du  Cirque,  the  commissary  of  po- 
lice could  not  understand  the  cause  of  their  agitation. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  it  would  hardly  be  proper 
now  to  send  for  that  girl." 

"  It  is  to  her  alone,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  must  re- 
sort," interrupted  M.  de  Tregars. 

And,  as  he  had  good  reasons  to  mistrust  Mme.  For- 
tin,  he  took  the  commissary  outside  the  room,  on  the 
landing ;  and  there,  in  a  few  words,  he  explained  to  him 
that  this  Zelie  was  precisely  the  same  woman  whom 
they  had  found  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque,  in  that  sumptuous 
mansion  where  Vincent  Favoral,  under  the  simple  name 
of  Vincent,  had  been  living,  according  to  the  neighbors, 
in  such  a  princely  style. 

The  commissary  of  police  was  astounded.  Why  had 
he  not  known  all  this  sooner?  Better  late  than  never, 
however. 

"  Ah !  you  are  right,  M.  le  Marquis,  a  hundred  times 
right !  "  he  declared.  "  This  girl  must  evidently  know 
Vincent  Favoral's  secret,  the  key  of  the  enigma  that 
we  are  vainly  trying  to  solve.  What  she  would  not  tell 
to  you,  a  stranger,  she  will  tell  to  Lucienne,  her  friend." 

Maxence  offered  to  go  himself  for  Zelie  Cadelle. 

"  No,"  answered  Marius.  "  If  she  should  happen  to 
know  you,  she  would  mistrust  you,  and  would  refuse 
to  come." 

It  was,  therefore,  M.  Fortin  who  was  despatched  to 
the  Rue  du  Cirque,  and  who  went  off  muttering,  though 
he  had  received  five  francs  to  take  a  carriage,  and  five 
francs  for  his  trouble. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  commissary  of  police  to  Max- 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  499 

ence,  "  we  must  both  of  us  get  out  of  the  way.  I,  be- 
cause the  fact  of  my  being  a  commissary  would  frighten 
Mme.  Cadelle;  you  because,  being  Vincent  Favoral's 
son,  your  presence  would  certainly  prove  embarrassing 
to  her." 

And  so  they  went  out;  but  M.  de  Tregars  did  not 
remain  long  alone  with  Mile.  Lucienne.  M.  Fortin  had 
had  the  delicacy  not  to  tarry  on  the  way. 

Eleven  o'clock  struck  as  Zelie  Cadelle  rushed  like  a 
whirlwind  into  her  friend's  room. 

Such  had  been  his  haste,  that  she  had  given  no 
thought  whatever  to  her  dress.  She  had  stuck  upon  her 
uncombed  hair  the  first  bonnet  she  had  laid  her  hand 
upon,  and  thrown  an  old  shawl  over  the  wrapper  in 
which  she  had  received  Marius  in  the  afternoon. 

"  What,  my  poor  Lucienne !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Are 
you  so  sick  as  all  that  ?  " 

.But  she  stopped  short  as  she  recognized  M.  de  Tre- 
gars ;  and,  in  a  suspicious  tone, — 

"  What  a  singular  meeting !  "  she  said. 

Marius  bowed. 

"  You  know  Lucienne  ?  " 

What  she  meant  by  that  he  understood  perfectly. 

"  Lucienne  is  my  sister,  madame,"  he  said  coldly. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.     "  What  humbug !  " 

"  It's  the  truth,"  affirmed  Mile.  Lucienne ;  "  and  you 
know  that  I  never  lie." 

Mme.  Zelie  was  dumbfounded. 

"If  you  say  so,"  she  muttered.  "But  no  matter: 
that's  queer." 

M.  de  Tregars  interrupted  her  with  a  gesture, — 

"  And,  what's  more,  it  is  because  Lucienne  is  mv  sister 
that  you  see  her  there  lying  upon  that  bed.  They  at- 
tempted to  murder  her  to-day !  " 


500  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Oh !  " 

"  It  was  her  mother  who  tried  to  get  rid  of  her,  so  as 
to  possess  herself  of  the  fortune  which  my  father  had 
left  her;  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the 
snare  was  contrived  by  Vincent  Favoral." 

Mme.  Zelie  did  not  understand  very  well ;  but,  when 
Marius  and  Mile.  Lucienne  had  informed  her  of  all  that 
it  was  useful  for  her  to  know, — 

"  Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  a  horrid  rascal  that 
old  Vincent  must  be !  " 

And,  as  M.  de  Tregars  remained  dumb, — 

"  This  afternoon,"  she  went  on,  "  I  didn't  tell  you 
any  stories ;  but  I  didn't  tell  you  every  thing,  either." 

She  stopped ;  and,  after  a  moment  of  deliberation, — 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  for  old  Vincent,"  she  said.  "  Ah ! 
he  tried  to  have  Lucienne  killed,  did  he?  Well,  then,  I 
am  going  to  tell  every  thing  I  know.  First  of  all,  he 
wasn't  any  thing  to  me.  It  isn't  very  flattering;  but 
it  is  so.  He  has  never  kissed  so  much  as  the  end  of  my 
finger.  He  used  to  say  that  he  loved  me,  but  that  he 
respected  me  still  more,  because  I  looked  so  much  like 
a  daughter  he  had  lost.  Old  humbug !  And  I  believed 
him  too!  I  did,  upon  my  word,  at  least  in  the  begin- 
ning. But  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  I  look.  I  found  out 
very  soon  that  he  was  making  fun  of  me ;  and  that  he 
was  only  using  me  as  a  blind  to  keep  suspicion  away 
from  another  woman." 

"  From  what  woman  ?  " 

"  Ah !  now,  I  do  not  know !  All  I  know  is  that  she  is 
married,  that  he  is  crazy  about  her,  and  that  they  are 
to  run  away  together." 

"  Hasn't  he  gone,  then  ?  " 

Mme.  Cadelle's  face  had  become  somewhat  anxious, 
and  for  over  a  minute  she  seemed  to  hesitate. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  501 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  at  last,  "  that  my  answer 
is  going  to  cost  me  a  lot  ?  They  have  promised  me  a  pile 
of  money ;  but  I  haven't  got  it  yet.  And,  if  I  say  any 
thing,  good-by !  I  sha'n't  have  any  thing." 

M.  de  Tregars  was  opening  his  lips  to  tell  her  that  she 
might  rest  easy  on  that  score ;  but  she  cut  him  short. 

"  Well,  no,"  she  said :  "  Old  Vincent  hasn't  gone.  He 
got  up  a  comedy,  so  he  told  me,  to  throw  the  lady's  hus- 
band off  the  track.  He  sent  off  a  whole  lot  of  baggage 
by  the  railroad ;  but  he  staid  in  Paris." 

"  And  do  you  know  where  he  is  hid  ?  " 

"  In  the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  of  course :  in  the  apartment 
that  I  hired  two  weeks  ago." 

In  a  voice  trembling  with  the  excitement  of  almost 
certain  success,  "  Would  you  consent  to  take  me  there  ?  " 
asked  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  Whenever  you  like, — to-morrow." 


IX. 

As  he  left  Mile.  Lucienne's  room, — 

"  There  is  nothing  more  to  keep  me  at  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,"  said  the  commissary  of  police  to  Maxence. 
"  Every  thing  possible  will  be  done,  and  well  done,  by 
M.  de  Tregars.  I  am  going  home,  therefore ;  and  I  am 
going  to  take  you  with  me.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do ;' 
and  you'll  help  me." 

That  was  not  exactly  true ;  but  he  feared,  on  the  part 
of  Maxence,  some  imprudence  which  might  compromise 
the  success  of  M.  de  Tregars'  mission. 

He  was  trying  to  think  of  every  thing  to  leave  as  little 
as  possible  to  chance ;  like  a  man  who  has  seen  the  best 
combined  plans  fail  for  want  of  a  trifling  precaution. 


502  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

Once  in  the  yard,  he  opened  the  door  of  the  lodge 
where  the  honorable  Fortins,  man  and  wife,  were  de- 
liberating, and  exchanging  their  conjectures,  instead 
of  going  to  bed.  For  they  were  wonderfully  puzzled 
by  all  those  events  that  succeeded  each  other,  and  anx- 
ious about  all  these  goings  and  comings. 

"  I  am  going  home,"  the  commissary  said  to  them ; 
"  but,  before  that,  listen  to  my  instructions.  You  will 
allow  no  one,  you  understand, — no  one  who  is  not 
known  to  you,  to  go  up  to  Mile.  Lucienne's  room.  And 
remember  that  I  will  admit  of  no  excuse,  and  that  you 
must  not  come  and  tell  me  afterwards,  '  It  isn't  our 
fault,  we  can't  see  everybody  that  comes  in/  and  all  that 
sort  of  nonsense." 

He  was  speaking  in  that  harsh  and  imperious  tone  of 
which  police-agents  have  the  secret,  when  they  are  ad- 
dressing people  who  have,  by  their  conduct,  placed  them- 
selves under  their  dependence. 

"  We  are  going  to  close  our  front-door,"  replied  the 
estimable  hotel-keepers.  "  We  will  comply  strictly  with 
vour  orders." 

"  I  trust  so ;  because,  if  you  should  disobey  me,  I 
should  hear  it,  and  the  result  would  be  a  serious  trouble 
to  you.  Besides  your  hotel  being  unmercifully  closed 
up,  you  would  find  yourselves  implicated  in  a  very  bad 
piece  of  business." 

The  most  ardent  curiosity  could  be  read  in  Mme.  For- 
tin's  little  eyes. 

"  I  understood  at  once,"  she  began,  "  that  something 
extraordinary  was  going  on." 

But  the  commissary  interrupted  her, — 

"  I  have  not  done  yet.    It  may  be  that  to-night  or  to- 
morrow some  one  will  call  and  inquire  how  Mile.  Lu 
cienne  is." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  503 

"And  then?" 

"  You  will  answer  that  she  is  as  bad  as  possible ;  and 
that  she  has  neither  spoken  a  word,  nor  recovered  her 
senses,  since  the  accident;  and  that  she  will  certainly 
not  live  through  the  day." 

The  effort  which  Mme.  Fortin  made  to  remain  silent 
gave,  better  than  any  thing  else,  an  idea  of  the  terror 
with  which  the  commissary  inspired  her. 

"  That  is  not  all,"  he  went  on.  "  As  soon  as  the  per- 
son in  question  has  started  off,  you  will  follow  him, 
without  affectation,  as  far  as  the  street-door,  and  you 
will  point  him  out  with  your  finger,  here,  like  that,  to 
one  of  my  agents,  who  will  happen  to  be  on  the  Boule- 
vard." 

"  And  suppose  he  should  not  be  there  ?  " 

"  He  shall  be  there.  You  can  make  yourself  easy  on 
that  score." 

The  looks  of  distress  which  the  honorable  hotel- 
keepers  were  exchanging  did  not  announce  a  very  tran- 
quil conscience. 

"  In  other  words,  here  we  are  under  surveillance," 
said  M.  Fortin  with  a  groan.  "  What  have  we  done  to 
be  thus  mistrusted  ?  " 

To  reply  to  him  would  have  been  a  task  more  long 
than  difficult. 

"  Do  as  I  tell  you,"  insisted  the  commissary  harshly, 
"  and  don't  mind  the  rest,  and,  meantime,  good- 
night." 

He  was  right  in  trusting  implicitly  to  his  agent's 
punctuality ;  for,  as  soon  as  he  came  out  of  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  a  man  passed  by  him,  and  without  seeming  to 
address  him,  or  even  to  recognize  him,  said  in  a  whis- 
per— 

"What  news?" 


504     OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Nothing,"  he  replied,  "  except  that  the  Fortins  are 
notified.  The  trap  is  well  set.  Keep  your  eyes  open  now, 
and  spot  any  one  who  comes  to  ask  about  Mile.  Lu- 
cienne." 

And  he  hurried  on,  still  followed  by  Maxence,  who 
walked  along  like  a  body  without  soul,  tortured  by  the 
most  frightful  anguish. 

As  he  had  been  away  the  whole  evening,  four  or  five 
persons  were  waiting  for  him  at  his  office  on  matters  of 
current  business.  He  despatched  them  in  less  than  no 
time;  after  which,  addressing  himself  to  an  agent  on 
duty, — 

"  This  evening,"  he  said,  "  at  about  nine  o'clock,  in  a 
restaurant  on  the  Boulevard,  a  quarrel  took  place.  A 
person  tried  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  another. 

"  You  will  proceed  at  once  to  that  restaurant ;  you 
will  get  the  particulars  of  what  took  place ;  and  you  will 
ascertain  exactly  who  this  man  is,  his  name,  his  profes- 
sion, and  his  residence." 

Like  a  man  accustomed  to  such  errands, — 

"  Can  I  have  a  description  of  him  ?  "  inquired  the 
agent. 

"  Yes.  He  is  a  man  past  middle  agre,  military  bearing, 
heavy  mustache,  ribbons  in  his  buttonhole." 

"  Yes,  I  see :  one  of  your  regular  fighting  fellows." 

"  Very  well.  Go  then.  I  shall  not  retire  before  your 
return.  Ah,  I  forgot;  find  out  what  they  thought  to- 
night on  the  '  street '  about  the  Mutual  Credit  affair, 
and  what  they  said  of  the  arrest  of  one  Saint  Pavin, 
editor  of  '  The  Financial  Pilot,'  and  of  a  banker  named 
Jottras." 

"  Can  I  take  a  carriage  ?  " 

"  Do  so." 

The  agent  started ;  and  he  was  not  fairly  out  of  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  505 

house,  when  the  commissary,  opening  a  door  which  gave 
into  a  small  study,  called,  "  Felix !  " 

It  was  his  secretary,  a  man  of  about  thirty,  blonde, 
with  a  gentle  and  timid  countenance,  having,  with  his 
long  coat,  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  theological  stu- 
dent. He  appeared  immediately. 

"You  call  me,  sir?"     . 

"  My  dear  Felix,"  replied  the  commissary,  "  I  have 
seen  you,  sometimes,  imitate  very  nicely  all  sorts  of 
hand-writings." 

The  secretary  blushed  very  much,  no  doubt  on  ac- 
count of  Maxence,  who  was  sitting  by  the  side  of  his 
employer.  He  was  a.  very  honest  fellow ;  but  there  are 
certain  little  talents  of  which  people  do  not  like  to  boast ; 
and  the  talent  of  imitating  the  writing  of  others  is  of  the 
number,  for  the  reason,  that,  fatally  and  at  once,  it  sug- 
gests the  idea  of  forgery. 

"  It  was  only  for  fun  that  I  used  to  do  that,  sir,"  he 
stammered. 

"  Would  you  be  here  if  it  had  been  otherwise?  "  said 
the  commissary.  "  Only  this  time  it  is  not  for  fun,  but 
to  do  me  a  favor  that  I  wish  you  to  try  again." 

And,  taking  out  of  his  pocket  the  letter  taken  by  M.  de 
Tregars  from  the  man  in  the  restaurant, — 

"  Examine  this  writing,"  he  said.  "  and  see  whether 
you  feel  capable  of  imitating  it  tolerably  well." 

Spreading  the  letter  under  the  full  light  of  the  lamp, 
the  secretary  spent  at  least  two  minutes  examining  it 
with  the  minute  attention  of  an  expert.  And  at  the  same 
time  he  was  muttering, — 

"  Not  at  all  convenient,  this.  Hard  writing  to  imi- 
tate. Not  a  salient  feature,  not  a  characteristic  sign ! 
Nothing  to  strike  the  eye,  or  attract  attention.  It  must 
be  some  old  lawyer's  clerk  who  wrote  this." 


506  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

In  spite  of  his  anxiety  of  mind,  the  commissary 
smiled. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  you  had  guessed  right." 

Thus  encouraged, — 

"  At  any  rate."  Felix  declared,  "  I  am  going  to  try." 
He  took  a  pen,  and,  after  trying  a  dozen  times, — 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  he  asked,  holding  out  a  sheet  of 
paper. 

The  commissary  carefully  compared  the  original  with 
the  copy. 

"  It  is  not  perfect,"  he  murmured ;  "  but  at  night,  with 
the  imagination  excited  by  a  great  peril —  Besides,  we 
must  risk  something." 

"  If  I  had  a  few  hours  to  practise!  " 

"  But  you  have  not.  Come,  take  up  your  pen,  and 
write  as  well  as  you  can,  in  that  same  hand,  what  I  am 
going  to  tell  you." 

And  after  a  moment's  thought,  he  dictated  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  All  goes  well.  T.,  drawn  into  a  quarrel,  is  to  fight 
in  the  morning  with  swords.  But  our  man,  whom  I  can- 
not leave,  refuses  to  go  ahead,  unless  he  is  paid  two 
thousand  francs  before  the  duel.  I  have  not  the  amount. 
Please  hand  it  to  the  bearer,  who  has  orders  to  wait  for 
you." 

The  commissary,  leaning  over  his  secretary's  shoul- 
der, was  following  his  hand,  and,  the  last  word  being 
written, — 

"  Perfect !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Now  quick,  the  address : 
Mme.  le  Baronne  de  Thaller,  Rue  de  le  Pepiniere." 

There  are  professions  which  extinguish,  in  those  who 
exercise  them,  all  curiosity.  It  is  with  the  most  com- 
plete indifference,  and  without  asking  a  question,  that 
the  secretary  had  done  what  he  had  been  requested. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  507 

"  Now,  my  dear  Felix,"  resumed  the  commissary, 
"  you  will  please  get  yourself  up  as  near  as  possible 
like  a  restaurant-waiter,  and  take  this  letter  to  its  ad- 
dress." 

"  At  this  hour !  " 

"  Yes.  The  Baroness  de  Thaller  is  out  to  a  ball.  You 
will  tell  the  servants  that  you  are  bringing  her  an  an- 
swer concerning  an  important  matter.  They  know 
nothing  about  it;  but  they  will  allow  you  to  wait  for 
their  mistress  in  the  porter's  lodge.  As  soon  as  she 
comes  in,  you  will  hand  her  the  letter,  stating  that  two 
gentlemen  who  are  taking  supper  in  your  restaurant 
are  waiting  for  the  answer.  It  may  be  that  she  will  ex- 
claim that  you  are  a  scoundrel,  that  she  does  not  know 
what  it  means:  in  that  case,  we  shall  have  been  antici- 
pated, and  you  must  get  away  as  fast  as  you  can.  But 
the  chances  are,  that  she  will  give  you  two  thousand 
francs;  and  then  you  must  so  manage,  that  she  will  be 
seen  plainly  when  she  does  it.  Is  it  all  understood  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Go  ahead,  then,  and  do  not  lose  a  minute.  I  shall 
wait." 

Away  from  Mile.  Lucienne,  Maxence  had  gradually 
been  recalled  to  the  strangeness  of  the  situation ;  and  it 
was  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  curiosity  and  surprise 
that  he  observed  the  commissary  acting  and  bustling 
about. 

The  good  man  had  found  again  all  the  activity  of  his 
youth,  together  with  that  fever  of  hope  and  that  im- 
patience of  success,  which  usually  disappear  with  age. 

He  was  going  over  the  whole  of  the  case  again, — his 
first  meeting  with  Mile.  Lucienne,  the  various  attempts 
upon  her  life ;  and  he  had  just  taken  out  of  the  file  the 
letter  of  information  which  had  been  intrusted  to  him,  in 


508  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

order  to  compare  the  writing  with  that  of  the  letter  taken 
from  his  adversary  by  M.  de  Tregars,  when  the  latter 
came  in  all  out  of  breath. 

"  Zelie  has  spoken !  "  he  said. 

And,  at  once  addressing  Maxence, — 

"  You,  my  dear  friend,"  he  resumed,  "  you  must  run 
to  the  Hotel  des  Folies." 

"  Is  Lucienne  worse?  " 

"  No.  Lucienne  is  getting  on  well  enough.  Zelie 
has  spoken ;  but  there  is  no  certainty,  that,  after  due  re- 
flection, she  will  not  repent,  and  go  and  give  the  alarm. 
You  will  return,  therefore,  and  you  will  not  lose  sight 
of  her  until  I  call  for  her  in  the  morning.  If  she  wishes 
to  go  out,  you  must  prevent  her." 

The  commissary  had  understood  the  importance  of 
the  precaution. 

"  You  must  prevent  her,"  he  added,  "  even  by  force ; 
and  I  authorize  you,  if  need  be,  to  call  upon  the  agent 
whom  I  have  placed  on  duty,  watching  the  Hotel  des 
Folies,  and  to  whom  I  am  going  to  send  word  imme- 
diately." 

Maxence  started  off  on  a  run. 

"  Poor  fellow !  "  murmured  Marius,  "  I  know  where 
your  father  is.  What  are  we  going  to  learn  now  ?  " 

He  had  scarcely  had  time  to  communicate  the  infor- 
mation he  had  received  from  Mme.  Cadelle,  when  the 
first  of  the  commissary's  emissaries  made  his  appear- 
ance. 

"  The  commission  is  done,"  he  said,  in  that  confident 
tone  of  a  man  who  thinks  he  has  successfully  accom- 
plished a  difficult  task. 

"  You  know  the  name  of  the  individual  who  sought 
a  quarrel  with  M.  de  Tregars?" 

"  His  name  is  Corvi.     He  is  well  known  in  all  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  509 

tables  d'hote,  where  there  are  women,  and  where  they 
deal  a  healthy  little  game  after  dinner.  I  know  him  well 
too.  He  is  a  bad  fellow,  who  passes  himself  off  for  a 
former  superior  officer  in  the  Italian  army." 

"  His  address?  " 

"  He  lives  at  Rue  de  la  Michodiere,  in  a  furnished 
house.  I  went  there.  The  porter  told  me  that  my  man 
had  just  gone  out  with  an  ill-looking  individual,  and 
that  they  must  be  in  a  little  cafe  on  the  corner  of  the  next 
street.  I  ran  there,  and  found  my  two  fellows  drinking 
beer." 

"  Won't  they  give  us  the  slip  ?  " 

"  No  danger  of  that :  I  have  got  them  fixed." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  It  is  an  idea  of  mine.  I  just  thought, '  Suppose  they 
put  off  ?  '  And  at  once  I  went  to  notify  some  policemen, 
and  I  returned  to  station  myself  near  the  cafe.  It  was 
just  closing  up.  My  two  fellows  came  out:  I  picked 
a  quarrel  with  them ;  and  now  they  are  in  the  station- 
house,  well  recommended." 

The  commissary  knit  his  brows. 

"  That's  almost  too  much  zeal,"  he  murmured.  "  Well, 
what's  done  is  done.  Did  you  make  any  inquiries  about 
the  Saint  Pavin  and  Jottras  matter  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  time,  it  was  too  late.  You  forget,  perhaps, 
sir,  that  it  is  nearly  two  o'clock." 

Just  as  he  got  through,  the  secretary  who  had  been 
sent  to  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere  came  in. 

"  Well  ?  "  inquired  the  commissary,  not  without  evi- 
dent anxiety. 

"  I  waited  for  Mme.  de  Thaller  over  an  hour,"  he 
said.  "  When  she  came  home,  I  gave  her  the  letter. 
She  read  it ;  and,  in  presence  of  a  number  of  her  ser- 
vants, she  handed  me  these  two  thousand  francs." 


510  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

At  the  sight  of  the  bank  notes,  the  commissary  jumped 
to  his  feet. 

"  Now  we  have  it ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Here  is  the 
proof  that  we  wanted." 


X. 

IT  was  after  four  o'clock  when  M.  de  Tregars  was  at 
last  permitted  to  return  home.  He  had  minutely,  and  at 
length,  arranged  every  thing  with  the  commissary:  he 
had  endeavored  to  anticipate  every  eventuality.  His  line 
of  conduct  was  perfectly  well  marked  out,  and  he  car- 
ried with  him  the  certainty  that  on  the  day  which  was 
about  to  dawn  the  strange  game  that  he  was  playing 
must  be  finally  won  or  lost.  When  he  reached  home, — 

"  At  last,  here  you  are,  sir !  "  exclaimed  his  faithful 
servant. 

It  was  doubtless  anxiety  that  had  kept  up  the  old  man 
all  night;  but  so  absorbed  was  Marius's  mind,  that  he 
scarcely  noticed  the  fact. 

"  Did  any  one  call  in  my  absence  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir.  A  gentleman  called  during  the  evening, 
M.  Costeclar,  who  appeared  very  much  vexed  not  to  find 
you  in.  He  stated  that  he  came  on  a  very  important 
matter  that  you  would  know  all  about :  and  he  requested 
me  to  ask  you  to  wait  for  him  to-morrow,  that  is  to- 
day, by  twelve  o'clock." 

Was  M.  Costeclar  sent  by  M.  de  Thaller?  Had  the 
manager  of  the  Mutual  Credit  changed  his  mind?  and 
had  he  decided  to  accept  the  conditions  which  he  had 
at  first  rejected?  In  that  case,  it  was  too  late.  It  was 
no  longer  in  the  power  of  any  human  being  to  suspend 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  511 

the  action  of  justice.  Without  giving  any  further 
thought  to  that  visit, — 

"  I  am  worn  out  with  fatigue,"  said  M.  de  Tregars, 
"  and  I  am  going  to  lie  down.  At  eight  o'clock  precisely 
you  will  call  me." 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  he  tried  to  find  a  short  respite 
in  sleep.  For  forty-eight  hours  his  mind  had  been  taxed 
beyond  measure,  his  nerves  had  been  wrought  up  to  an 
almost  intolerable  degree  of  exaltation. 

As  soon  as  he  closed  his  eyes,  it  was  with  a  merciless 
precision  that  his  imagination  presented  to  him  all  the 
events  which  had  taken  place  since  that  afternoon  in 
the  Place-Royale  when  he  had  ventured  to  declare  his 
love  to  Mile.  Gilberte.  Who  could  have  told  him  then, 
that  he  would  engage  in  that  struggle,  the  issue  of  which 
must  certainly  be  some  abominable  scandal  in  which 
his  name  would  be  mixed?  Who  could  have  told  him, 
that  gradually,  and  by  the  very  force  of  circumstances, 
he  would  be  led  to  overcome  his  repugnance,  and  to 
rival  the  ruses  and  the  tortuous  combinations  of  the 
wretches  he  was  trying  to  reach  ? 

But  he  was  not  of  those  who,  once  engaged,  regret, 
hesitate,  and  draw  back.  His  conscience  reproached  him 
for  nothing.  It  was  for  justice  and  right  that  he  was 
battling;  and  Mile.  Gilberte  was  the  prize  that  would 
reward  him. 

Eight  o'clock  struck ;  and  his  servant  came  in. 

"  Run  for  a  cab,"  he  said :  "  I'll  be  ready  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

He  was  ready,  in  fact,  when  the  old  servant  returned ; 
and,  as  he  had  in  his  pocket  some  of  those  arguments 
that  lend  wings  to  the  poorest  cab-horses,  in  less  than 
ten  minutes  he  had  reached  the  Hotel  des  Folies. 


512  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  How  is  Mile.  Lucienne  ?  "  he  inquired  first  of  all 
of  the  worthy  hostess. 

The  intervention  of  the  commissary  of  police  had 
made  M.  Fortin  and  his  wife  more  supple  than  gloves, 
and  more  gentle  than  doves. 

"  The  poor  dear  child  is  much  better,"  answered  Mme. 
Fortin;  "and  the  doctor,  who  has  just  left,  now  feels 
sure  of  her  recovery.  But  there  is  a  row  up  there." 

"  A  row  ?  " 

"  Yes.  That  lady  whom  my  husband  went  after  last 
night  insists  upon  going  out;  and  M.  Maxence  won't 
let  her :  so  that  they  are  quarreling  up  there.  Just  listen." 

The  loud  noise  of  a  violent  altercation  could  be  heard 
distinctly.  M.  de  Tregars  started  up  stairs,  and  on  the 
second-story  landing  he  found  Maxence  holding  on  ob- 
stinately to  the  railing,  whilst  Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle,  red- 
der than  a  peony,  was  trying  to  induce  him  to  let  her 
pass,  treating  him  at  the  same  time  to  some  of  th6 
choicest  epithets  of  her  well-stocked  repertory.  Catch- 
ing sight  of  Marius, — 

"  Is  it  you,"  she  cried,  "  who  gave  orders  to  keep  me 
here  against  my  wishes?  By  what  right?  Am  I  your 
prisoner  ?  " 

To  irritate  her  would  have  been  imprudent. 

"  Why  did  you  wish  to  leave,"  said  M.  de  Tregars 
gently,  "  at  the  very  moment  when  you  knew  that  I  was 
to  call  for  you  ?  " 

But  she  interrupted  him,  and,  shrugging  her  shoul- 
ders,— 

"Why  don't  you  tell  the  truth?"  she  said.  "You 
were  afraid  to  trust  me." 

"  Oh !  " 

"You  are  wrong!    What  I  promise  to  do  I  do.    I 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY         '   513 

only  wanted  to  go  home  to  dress.  Can  I  go  in  the  street 
in  this  costume  ?  " 

And  she  was  spreading  out  her  wrapper,  all  faded 
and  stained. 

"  I  have  a  carriage  below,"  said  Marius.  "  No  one 
will  see  us." 

Doubtless  she  understood  that  it  was  useless  to  hes- 
itate. 

"  As  you  please,"  she  said. 

M.  de  Tregars  took  Maxence  aside,  and  in  a  hurried 
whisper, — 

"  You  must,"  said  he,  "  go  at  once  to  the  Rue  St. 
Gilles,  and  in  my  name  request  your  sister  to  accompany 
you.  You  will  take  a  closed  carriage,  and  you'll  go  and 
wait  in  the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  opposite  No.  25.  It  may 
be  that  Mile.  Gilberte's  assistance  will  become  indis- 
pensable to  me.  And,  as  Lucienne  must  not  be  left 
alone,  you  will  request  Mme.  Fortin  to  go  and  stay  with 
her." 

And,  without  waiting  for  an  answer, — 

"  Let  us  go,"  he  said  to  Mme.  Cadelle. 

They  started ;  but  the  young  woman  was  far  from  be- 
ing in  her  usual  spirits.  It  was  clear  that  she  was  re- 
gretting bitterly  having  gone  so  far,  and  not  having 
been  able  to  get  away  at  the  last  moment.  As  the  carriage 
went  on,  she  became  paler  and  a  frown  appeared  upon 
her  face. 

"  No  matter,"  she  began :  "  it's  a  nasty  thing  I  am 
doing  there." 

"  Do  you  repent  then,  assisting  me  to  punish  your 
friend's  assassins?"  said  M.  de  Tregars. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  know  very  well  that  old  Vincent  is  a  scoundrel," 


514  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

she  said ;  "  but  he  had  trusted  me,  and  I  am  betraying 
him." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  madame.  To  furnish  me  the 
means  of  speaking  to  M.  Favoral  is  not  to  betray  him ; 
and  I  shall  do  every  thing  in  my  power  to  enable  him 
to  escape  the  police,  and  make  his  way  abroad." 

"  What  a  joke !  " 

"  It  is  the  exact  truth :  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor." 

She  seemed  to  feel  easier;  and,  when  the  carriage 
turned  into  the  Rue  St.  Lazare,  "  Let  us  stop  a  mo- 
ment," she  said. 

"Why?" 

"  So  that  I  can  buy  old  Vincent's  breakfast.  He 
can't  go  out  to  eat,  of  course ;  and  so  I  have  to  take  all 
his  meals  to  him." 

Marius's  mistrust  was  far  from  being  dissipated ;  and 
yet  he  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  refuse,  promising  him- 
self, however,  not  to  lose  sight  of  Mme.  Zelie.  He  fol- 
lowed her,  therefore,  to  the  baker's  and  the  butcher's; 
and  when  she  had  done  her  marketing,  he  entered  with 
her  the  house  of  modest  appearance  where  she  had  her 
apartment. 

They  were  already  going  up  stairs,  when  the  porter 
ran  out  of  his  lodge. 

"  Madame !  "  he  said,  "  madame !  " 

Mme.  Cadelle  stopped. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  A  letter  for  you." 

"Forme?" 

"  Here  it  is.  A  lady  brought  it  less  than  five  min- 
utes ago.  Really,  she  looked  annoyed  not  to  find  you  in. 
But  she  is  going  to  come  back.  She  knew  you  were 
to  be  here  this  morning." 

M.  de  Tregars  had  also  stopped. 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  515 

"  What  kind  of  a  looking  person  was  this  lady  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Dressed  all  in  black,  with  a  thick  veil  on  her  face." 

"  All  right.     I  thank  you." 

The  porter  returned  to  his  lodge.  Mme.  Zelie  broke 
the  seal.  The  first  envelope  contained  another,  upon 
which  she  spelt,  for  she  did  not  read  very  fluently, — 

"  To  be  handed  to  M.  Vincent." 

"  Some  one  knows  that  he  is  hiding  here,"  she  said  in 
a  tone  of  utter  surprise.  "  Who  can  it  be?  " 

"  Who  ?  Why,  the  woman  whose  reputation  M.  Fa- 
voral  was  so  anxious  to  spare  when  he  put  you  in  the 
Rue  du  Cirque  house." 

There  was  nothing  that  irritated  the  young  woman 
so  much  as  this  idea. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.  "  What  a  fool  he  made 
of  me,  the  old  rascal!  But  never  mind.  I  am  going 
to  pay  him  for  it  now." 

Nevertheless  when  she  reached  her  story,  the  third, 
and  at  the  moment  of  slipping  the  key  into  the  keyhole, 
she  again  seemed  perplexed. 

"  If  some  misfortune  should  happen,"  she  sighed. 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  " 

"  Old  Vincent  has  got  all  sorts  of  arms  in  there.  He 
has  sworn  to  me  that  the  first  person  who  forced  his  way 
into  the  apartments,  he  would  kill  him  like  a  dog.  Sup- 
pose he  should  fire  at  us  ?  " 

She  was  afraid,  terribly  afraid :  she  was  livid,  and  her 
teeth  chattered. 

"  Let  me  go  first,"  suggested  M.  de  Tregars. 

"  No.  Only,  if  you  were  a  good  fellow,  you  would 
do  what  I  am  going  to  ask  you.  Say,  will  you  ?  " 

"  If  it  can  be  done." 

"  Oh,  certainly !    Here  is  the  thing.    We'll  go  in.  to- 


516  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

gather;  but  you  must  not  make  any  noise.  There  is  a 
large  closet  with  glass  doors,  from  which  every  thing 
can  be  heard  and  seen  that  goes  on  in  the  large  room. 
You'll  get  in  there.  I'll  go  ahead,  and  draw  out  old  Vin- 
cent into  the  parlor,  and  at  the  right  moment,  v'lanl  you 
appear." 

It  was  after  all,  quite  reasonable. 

"  Agreed !  "  said  Marius. 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  every  thing  will  go  on  right. 
The  entrance  of  the  closet  with  the  glass  doors  is  on 
the  right  as  you  go  in.  Come  along  now,  and  walk 
easy." 

And  she  opened  the  door. 


XL 

THE  apartment  was  exactly  as  described  by  Mme. 
Cadelle.  In  the  dark  and  narrow  ante-chamber,  three 
doors  opened, — on  the  left,  that  of  the  dining-room ;  in 
the  centre,  that  of  a  parlor  and  bedroom  which  com- 
municated ;  on  the  right,  that  of  the  closet.  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  slipped  in  noiselessly  through  the  latter,  and  at  once 
recognized  that  Mme.  Zelie  had  not  deceived  him,  and 
that  he  would  see  and  hear  every  thing  that  went  on  in 
the  parlor.  He  saw  the  young  woman  walk  into  it.  She 
laid  her  provisions  down  upon  the  table,  and  called, — 

"Vincent!" 

The  former  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  appeared  at 
once,  coming  out  of  the  bedroom. 

He  was  so  changed,  that  his  wife  and  children  would 
have  hesitated  in  recognizing  him.  He  had  cut  off  his 
beard,  pulled  out  almost  the  whole  of  his  thick  eye- 
brows, and  covered  his  rough  and  straight  hair  under  a 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  517 

brown  curly  wig,  He  wore  patent-leather  boots,  wide 
pantaloons,  and  one  of  those  short  jackets  of  rough 
material,  and  with  broad  sleeves  which  French  elegance 
has  borrowed  from  English  stable-boys.  He  tried  to 
appear  calm,  careless,  and  playful;  but  the  contraction 
of  his  lips  betrayed  a  horrible  anguish,  and  his  look  had 
the  strange  mobility  of  the  wild  beasts'  eye,  when,  al- 
most at  bay,  they  stop  for  a  moment,  listening  to  the 
barking  of  the  hounds. 

"  I  was  beginning  to  fear  that  you  would  disappoint 
me,"  he  said  to  Mme.  Zelie. 

"  It  took  me  some  time  to  buy  your  breakfast." 

"  And  is  that  all  that  kept  you  ?  " 

"  The  porter  detained  me  too,  to  hand  me  a  letter,  in 
which  I  found  one  for  you.  Here  it  is." 

"  A  letter !  "  exclaimed  Vincent  Favoral. 

And,  snatching  it  from  her,  he  tore  off  the  envelope. 
But  he  had  scarcely  looked  over  it,  when  he  crushed 
it  in  his  hand,  exclaiming, — 

"  It  is  monstrous !    It  is  a  mean,  infamous  treason !  " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  ringing  of  the  door- 
bell. 

"  Who  can  it  be  ?  "  stammered  Mme.  Cadelle. 

"  I  know  who  it  is,"  replied  the  former  cashier. 
"  Open,  open  quick." 

She  obeyed ;  and  almost  at  once  a  woman  walked  into 
the  parlor,  wearing  a  cheap,  black  woolen  dress.  With 
a  sudden  gesture,  she  threw  off  her  veil ;  and  M.  de  Tre- 
gars  recognized  the  Baroness  de  Thaller. 

"  Leave  us !  "  she  said  to  Mme.  Zelie,  in  a  tone  which 
one  would  hardly  dare  to  assume  towards  a  bar-maid. 

The  other  felt  indignant. 

"  What,  what !  "  she  began.  "  I  am  in  my  own  house 
here." 


518  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  Leave  us !  "  repeated  M.  Favoral  with  a  threaten- 
ing gesture.  "  Go,  go !  " 

She  went  out  but  only  to  take  refuge  by  the  side  of 
M.  de  Tregars. 

"  You  hear  how  they  treat  me,"  she  said  in  a  hoarse 
voice. 

He  made  no  answer.  All  his  attention  was  centred 
upon  the  parlor.  The  Baroness  de  Thaller  and  the  for- 
mer cashier  were  standing  opposite  each  other,  like  two 
adversaries  about  to  fight  a  duel. 

"  I  have  just  read  your  letter,"  began  Vincent  Fa- 
voral. 

Coldly  the  baroness  said,  "  Ah !  " 

"  It  is  a  joke,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  You  refuse  to  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Positively." 

"  And  yet  it  was  all  agreed  upon.  I  have  acted  wholly 
under  your  urgent,  pressing  advice.  How  many  times 
have  you  repeated  to  me  that  to  live  with  your  husband 
had  become  an  intolerable  torment  to  you !  How  many 
times  have  you  sworn  to  me  that  you  wished  to  be  mine 
alone,  begging  me  to  procure  a  large  sum  of  money, 
and  to  fly  with  you ! " 

"  I  was  in  earnest  at  the  time.  I  have  discovered,  at 
the  last  moment,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  thus 
to  abandon  my  country,  my  daughter,  my  friends." 

"  We  can  take  Cesarine  with  us." 

"  Do  not  insist." 

He  was  looking  at  her  with  a  stupid,  gloomy  gaze. 

"  Then,"  he  stammered,  "  those  tears,  those  prayers, 
those  oaths !  " 

"  I  have  reflected." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  519 

"It  is  not  possible!  If  you  spoke  the  truth,  you 
would  not  be  here." 

"  I  am  here  to  make  you  understand  that  we  must 
give  up  projects  which  cannot  be  realized.  There  are 
some  social  conventionalities  which  cannot  be  torn  up." 

As  if  he  scarcely  understood  what  she  said,  he  re- 
peated,— 

"  Social  conventionalities !  " 

And  suddenly  falling  at  Mme.  de  Thaller's  feet,  his 
head  thrown  back,  and  his  hands  clasped  together, — 

"  You  lie !  "  he  said.  "  Confess  that  you  lie,  and  that 
it  is  a  final  trial  which  you  are  imposing  upon  me.  Or 
else  have  you,  then,  never  loved  me  ?  That's  impossible ! 
I  would  not  believe  you  if  you  were  to  say  so.  A  woman 
who  does  not  love  a  man  cannot  be  to  him  what  you 
have  been  to  me:  she  does  not  give  herself  up  thus  so 
joyously  and  so  completely.  Have  you,  then,  forgot- 
ten every  thing?  Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  remem- 
ber those  divine  evenings  in  the  Rue  de  Cirque? — those 
nights,  the  mere  thought  of  which  fires  my  brain,  and 
consumes  my  blood." 

He  was  horrible  to  look  at,  horrible  and  ridiculous  at 
the  same  time.  As  he  wished  to  take  Mme.  de  Thaller's 
hands,  she  stepped  back,  and  he  followed  her,  dragging 
himself  on  his  knees. 

"  Where  could  you  find,"  he  continued,  "  a  man  to 
worship  you  like  me,  with  an  ardent,  absolute,  blind, 
mad  passion  ?  With  what  can  you  reproach  me  ?  Have 
t  not  sacrificed  to  you  without  a  murmur  every  thing 
that  a  man  can  sacrifice  here  below, — fortune,  family, 
lionor, — to  supply  your  extravagance,  to  anticipate 
your  slightest  fancies,  to  give  you  gold  to  scatter  by  the 
handful.  Did  I  not  leave  my  own  family  struggling 


520  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

with  poverty.  I  would  have  snatched  bread  from  my 
children's  mouths  in  order  to  purchase  roses  to  scatter 
under  your  footsteps.  And  for  years  did  ever  a  word 
from  me  betray  the  secret  of  our  love?  What  have  I 
not  endured  ?  You  deceived  me.  I  knew  it,  and  I  said 
nothing.  Upon  a  word  from  you  I  stepped  aside  before 
him  whom  your  caprice  made  happy  for  a  day.  You 
told  me,  '  Steal ! '  and  I  stole.  You  told  me,  '  Kill ! '  and 
I  tried  to  kill." 

"  Fly.  A  man  who  has  twelve  hundred  thousand 
francs  in  gold,  bank-notes,  and  good  securities,  can  al- 
ways get  along." 

"  And  my  wife  and  children  ?  " 

"  Maxence  is  old  enough  to  help  his  mother.  Gilberte 
will  find  a  husband :  depend  upon  it.  Besides,  what's  to 
prevent  you  from  sending  them  money  ?  " 

"  They  would  refuse  it." 

"  You  will  always  be  a  fool,  my  dear !  " 

To  Vincent  Favoral's  first  stupor  and  miserable  weak- 
ness now  succeeded  a  terrible  passion.  All  the  blood  had 
left  his  face :  his  eyes  was  flashing. 

"Then,"  he  resumed,  "all  is  really  over?" 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then  I  have  been  duped  like  the  rest, — like  that  poor 
Marquis  de  Tregars,  whom  you  had  made  mad  also. 
But  he,  at  least  saved  his  honor;  whereas  I —  And  I 
have  no  excuse ;  for  I  should  have  known.  I  knew  that 
you  were  but  the  bait  which  the  Baron  de  Thaller  held 
out  to  his  victims." 

He  waited  for  an  answer ;  but  she  maintained  a  con- 
temptuous silence. 

"  Then  you  think,"  he  said  with  a  threatening  laugh, 
"  that  it  will  all  end  that  way?  " 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  521 

"What  can  you  do?" 

"  There  is  such  a  thing  as  justice,  I  imagine,  and 
judges  too.  I  can  give  myself  up,  and  reveal  every 
thing." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  That  would  be  throwing  yourself  into  the  wolf's 
mouth  for  nothing,"  she  said.  "  You  know  better  than 
any  one  else  that  my  precautions  are  well  enough  taken 
to  defy  any  thing  you  can  do  or  say.  I  have  nothing 
to  fear." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Trust  to  me,"  she  said  with  a  smile  of  perfect  se> 
curity. 

The  former  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  made  a  ter- 
rible gesture;  but,  checking  himself  at  once,  he  seized 
one  of  the  baroness's  hands.  She  withdrew  it  quickly, 
however,  and,  in  an  accent  of  insurmountable  disgust, — 

"  Enough,  enough !  "  she  said. 

In  the  adjoining  closet  Marius  de  Tregars  could  feel 
Mme.  Zelie  Cadelle  shuddering  by  his  side. 

"  What  a  wretch  that  woman  is !  "  she  murmured ; 
"  and  he — what  a  base  coward !  " 

The  former  cashier  remained  prostrated,  striking  the 
floor  with  his  head. 

"  And  you  would  forsake  me,"  he  groaned,  "  when 
we  are  united  by  a  past  such  as  ours !  How  could  you 
replace  me?  Where  would  you  find  a  slave  so  devoted 
to  your  every  wish  ?  " 

The  baroness  was  getting  impatient. 

"  Stop !  "  she  interrupted, — "  stop  these  demonstra- 
tions as  useless  as  ridiculous." 

This  time  he  did  start  up,  as  if  lashed  with  a  whip, 
and,  double  locking  the  door  which  communicated  with 


522  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

the  ante-chamber,  he  put  the  key  in  his  pocket;  and, 
with  a  step  as  stiff  and  mechanical  as  that  of  an  automa- 
ton, he  disappeared  in  the  sleeping-room. 

"  He,  is  going  for  a  weapon,"  whispered  Mme.  Ca- 
delle. 

It  was  also  what  Marius  thought. 

"  Run  down  quick,"  he  said  to  Mme.  Zelie.  "  In  a 
cab  standing  opposite  No.  25,  you  will  find  Mile.  Gil- 
berte  Favoral  waiting.  Let  her  come  at  once." 

And,  rushing  into  the  parlor, — 

"  Fly !  "  he  said  to  Mme.  Thaller. 

But  she  was  as  petrified  by  this  apparition. 

"  M.  de  Tregars !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  me.    But  hurry  and  go !  " 

And  he  pushed  her  into  the  closet. 

It  was  but  time.  Vincent  Favoral  reappeared  upon 
the  threshold  of  the  bedroom.  But,  if  it  was  a  weapon 
he  had  gone  for,  it  was  not  for  the  one  which  Marius 
and  Mme.  Cadelle  supposed.  It  was  a  bundle  of  papers 
which  he  held  in  his  hand.  Seeing  M.  de  Tregars  there, 
instead  of  Mme.  de  Thaller,  an  exclamation  of  terror 
and  surprise  rose  to  his  lips.  He  understood  vaguely 
what  must  have  taken  place ;  that  the  man  who  stood 
there  must  have  been  concealed  in  the  glass  closet,  and 
that  he  had  assisted  the  baroness  to  escape. 

"  Ah  the  miserable  wretch !  "  he  stammered  with  a 
tongue  made  thick  by  passion,  "  the  infamous  wretch ! 
She  has  betrayed  me;  she  has  surrendered  me.  I  am 
lost!" 

Mastering  the  most  terrible  emotion  he  had  ever 
felt,— 

"  No,  no !  you  shall  not  be  surrendered,"  uttered  M. 
de  Tregars. 

Collecting  all  the  energy  that  the  devouring  passion 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  523 

which  had  blasted  his  existence  had  left  him,  the  former 
cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit  took  one  or  two  steps  for- 
ward. 

"  Who  are  you,  then  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Do  you  not  know  me  ?  I  am  the  son  of  that  un- 
fortunate Marquis  de  Tregars  of  whom  you  spoke  a 
moment  since.  I  am  Lucienne's  brother." 

Like  a  man  who  has  received  a  stunning  blow,  Vin- 
cent Favoral  sank  heavily  upon  a  chair. 

"  He  knows  all,"  he  groaned. 

"Yes,  all!" 

"  You  must  hate  me  mortally." 

"  I  pity  you." 

The  old  cashier  had  reached  that  point  when  all  the 
faculties,  after  being  strained  to  their  utmost  limits,  sud- 
denly break  down,  when  the  strongest  man  gives  up,  and 
weeps  like  a  child. 

"  Ah,  I  am  the  most  wretched  of  villains ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. 

He  had  hid  his  face  in  his  hands ;  and  in  one  second, 
— as  it  happens,  they  say,  to  the  dying  on  the  threshold 
of  eternity, — he  reviewed  his  entire  existence. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said.  "  I  had  not  the  soul  of  a  villain. 
I  wanted  to  get  rich,  but  honestly,  by  labor,  and  by  rigid 
economy.  And  I  should  have  succeeded.  I  had  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  francs  of  my  own  when  I  met 
the  Baron  de  Thaller.  Alas!  why  did  I  meet  him? 
'Twas  he  who  first  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was 
stupid  to  work  and  save,  when,  at  the  bourse,  with  mod- 
erate luck,  one  might  become  a  millionaire  in  six 
months." 

He  stopped,  shook  his  head,  and  suddenly, — 

"  Do  you  know  the  Baron  de  Thaller?  "  he  asked. 

And,  without  giving  Marius  time  to  answer, — 


524  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  He  is  a  German,"  he  went  on,  "  a  Prussian.  His 
father  was  a  cab-driver  in  Berlin,  and  his  mother  wait- 
ing-maid in  a  brewery.  At  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  was 
compelled  to  leave  his  country,  owing  to  some  petty 
swindle,  and  came  to  take  up  his  residence  in  Paris.  He 
found  employment  in  the  office  of  a  stock-broker,  and 
was  living  very  poorly,  when  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a  young  laundress  named  Euphrasie,  who  had  for  a 
lover  a  very  wealthy  gentleman,  the  Marquis  de  Tre- 
gars,  whose  weakness  was  to  pass  himself  off  for  a  poor 
clerk.  Euphrasie  and  Thaller  were  well  calculated  to 
agree.  They  did  agree,  and  formed  an  association, — she 
contributing  her  beauty;  he,  his  genius  for  intrigue; 
both,  their  corruption  and  their  vices.  Soon  after  they 
met,  she  gave  birth  to  a  child,  a  daughter,  whom  she  in- 
trusted to  some  poor  gardeners  at  Louveciennes,  with 
the  firm  and  settled  intention  to  leave  her  there  forever. 
And  yet  it  was  upon  this  daughter,  whom  they  firmly 
hoped  never  to  see  again,  that  the  two  accomplices  were 
building  their  fortune. 

"  It  was  in  the  name  of  that  daughter  that  Euphrasie 
wrung  considerable  sums  from  the  Marquis  de  Tregars. 
As  soon  as  Thaller  and  she  found  themselves  in  posses- 
sion of  six  hundred  thousand  francs,  they  dismissed  the 
marquis,  and  got  married.  Already,  at  that  time,  Thal- 
ler had  taken  the  title  of  baron,  and  lived  in  some  style. 
But  his  first  speculations  were  not  successful.  The  rev- 
olution of  1848  finished  his  ruin,  and  he  was  about  be- 
ing expelled  from  the  bourse,  when  he  found  me  on  his 
way, — I,  poor  fool,  who  was  going  about  everywhere, 
asking  how  I  could  advantageously  invest  my  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  francs." 

He  was  speaking    in  a   hoarse    voice,    shaking   his 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  525 

clinched  fist  in  the  air,  doubtless  at  the  Baron  de 
Thaller. 

"  Unfortunately,"  he  resumed,  "  it  was  only  much 
later  that  I  discovered  all  this.  At  the  moment,  M.  de 
Thaller  dazzled  me.  His  friends,  Saint  Pavin  and  the 
bankers  Jottras,  proclaimed  him  the  smartest  and  the 
most  honest  man  in  France.  Still  I  would  not  have 
given  my  money,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  baroness. 
The  first  time  that  I  was  introduced  to  her,  and  that  she 
fixed  upon  me  her  great  black  eyes,  I  felt  myself  moved 
to  the  deepest  recesses  of  my  soul.  In  order  to  see  her 
again,  I  invited  her,  together  with  her  husband  and  her 
husband's  friends,  to  dine  with  me,  by  the  side  of  my 
wife  and  children.  She  came.  Her  husband  made  me 
sign  every  thing  he  pleased;  but,  as  she  went  off,  she 
pressed  my  hand." 

He  was  still  shuddering  at  the  recollection  of  it,  the 
poor  fellow ! 

"  The  next  day,"  he  went  on,  "  I  handed  to  Thaller  all 
I  had  in  the  world;  and,  in  exchange,  he  gave  me  the 
position  of  cashier  in  the  Mutual  Credit,  which  he  had 
just  founded.  He  treated  me  like  an  inferior,  and  did 
not  admit  me  to  visit  his  family.  But  I  didn't  care :  the 
baroness  had  permitted  me  to  see  her  again,  and  almost 
every  afternoon  I  met  her  at  the  Tuileries;  and  I  had 
made  bold  to  tell  her  that  I  loved  her  to  desperation. 
At  last,  one  evening,  she  consented  to  make  an  appoint- 
ment with  me  for  the  second  following  day,  in  an  apart- 
ment which  I  had  rented. 

"  The  day  before  I  was  to  meet  her,  and  whilst  I  was 
beside  myself  with  joy,  the  Baron  de  Thaller  requested 
me  to  assist  him,  by  means  of  certain  irregular  entries, 
to  conceal  a  deficit  arising  from  unsuccessful  specula- 


526  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

tions.  How  could  I  refuse  a  man,  whom,  as  I  thought, 
I  was  about  to  deceive  grossly !  I  did  as  he  wished.  The 
next  day  Mme.  de  Thaller  became  my  mistress;  and  I 
was  a  lost  man." 

Was  he  trying  to  exculpate  himself  ?  Was  he  merely 
yielding  to  that  imperious  sentiment,  more  powerful 
than  the  will  or  the  reason,  which  impels  the  criminal 
to  reveal  the  secret  which  oppresses  him? 

"  From  that  day,"  he  went  on,  "  began  for  me  the  tor- 
ment of  that  double  existence  which  I  underwent  for 
years.  I  had  given  to  my  mistress  all  I  had  in  the  world ; 
and  she  was  insatiable.  She  wanted  money  always,  any 
way,  and  in  heaps.  She  made  me  buy  the  house  in  the 
Rue  du  Cirque  for  our  meetings ;  and,  between  the  de- 
mands of  the  husband  and  those  of  the  wife,  I  was  al- 
most insane.  I  drew  from  the  funds  of  the  Mutual 
Credit  as  from  an  inexhaustible  mine ;  and,  as  I  foresaw 
that  some  day  must  come  when  all  would  be  discovered, 
I  always  carried  about  me  a  loaded  revolver,  with  which 
to  blow  out  my  brains  when  they  came  to  arrest  me." 

And  he  showed  to  Marius  the  handle  of  a  revolver 
protruding  from  his  pocket. 

"  And  if  only  she  had  been  faithful  to  me !  "  he  con- 
tinued, becoming  more  and  more  animated.  "  But  what 
have  I  not  endured !  When  the  Marquis  de  Tregars 
returned  to  Paris,  and  they  set  about  defrauding  him  of 
his  fortune,  she  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  become  his 
mistress  again.  She  used  to  tell  me,  '  What  a  fool  you 
are !  all  I  want  is  his  money.  I  love  no  one  but  you.' 
But  after  his  death  she  took  others.  She  made  use  of 
our  house  in  the  Rue  du  Cirque  for  purposes  of  dissi- 
pation for  herself  and  her  daughter  Cesarine.  And  I — 
miserable  coward  that  I  was ! — I  suffered  all,  so  much 
did  I  tremble  to  lose  her,  so  much  did  I  fear  to  be  weaned 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     527 

from  the  semblance  of  love  with  which  she  paid  my  fear- 
ful sacrifices.  And  now  she  would  betray  me,  forsake 
me !  For  every  thing  that  has  taken  place  was  suggested 
by  her  in  order  to  procure  a  sum  wherewith  to  fly  to 
America.  It  was  she  who  imagined  the  wretched  com- 
edy which  I  played,  so  as  to  throw  upon  myself  the 
whole  responsibility.  M.  de  Thaller  has  had  millions  for 
his  share:  I  have  only  had  twelve  hundred  thousand 
francs." 

Violent  nervous  shudders  shook  his  frame:  his  face 
became  purple.  He  drew  himself  up,  and,  brandishing 
the  letters  which  he  held  in  his  hand, — 

"  But  all  is  not  over !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  There  are 
proofs  which  neither  the  baron  nor  his  wife  know  that  I 
have.  I  have  the  proof  of  the  infamous  swindle  of 
which  the  Marquis  de  Tregars  was  the  victim.  I  have 
the  proof  of  the  farce  got  up  by  M.  de  Thaller  and  my- 
self to  defraud  the  stockholders  of  the  Mutual  Credit !  " 

"  What  do  you  hope  for  ?  " 

He  was  laughing  a  stupid  laugh. 

"  I  ?  I  shall  go  and  hide  myself  in  some  suburb  of 
Paris,  and  write  to  Euphrasie  to  come.  She  knows  that 
I  have  twelve  hundred  thousand  francs.  She  will  come ; 
and  she  will  keep  coming  as  long  as  I  have  any  money. 
And  when  I  have  no  more  " — 

He  stopped  short,  starting  back,  his  arms  outstretched 
as  if  to  repel  a  terrifying  apparition.  Mile.  Gilberte  had 
just  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  My  daughter !  "  stammered  the  wretch.  "  Gilberte !" 

"  The  Marquise  de  Tregars,"  uttered  Marius. 

An  inexpressible  look  of  terror  and  anguish  convulsed 
the  features  of  Vincent  Favoral :  he  guessed  that  it  was 
the  end. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?  "  he  stammered. 


528  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

"  The  money  that  you  have  stolen,  father,"  replied  the 
girl  in  an  inexorable  tone  of  voice, — "  the  twelve  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  which  you  have  here,  then  the 
proofs  which  are  in  your  hands,  and,  finally  your  wea- 
pons." 

He  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Take  away  my  money !  "  he  said.  "  Why,  that 
would  be  compelling  me  to  give  myself  up!  Do  you 
wish  to  see  me  in  prison  ?  " 

"  The  disgrace  would  fall  back  upon  your  children, 
sir,"  said  M.  de  Tregars.  "  We  shall,  on  the  contrary, 
do  every  thing  in  the  world  to  enable  you  to  evade  the 
pursuit  of  the  police." 

"  Well,  yes,  then.  But  to-morrow  I  must  write  to 
Euphrasie :  I  must  see  her !  " 

"  You  have  lost  your  mind,  father,"  said  Mile.  Gil- 
berte.  "  Come,  do  as  I  ask  you." 

He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

"  And  suppose  I  refuse  ?  " 

But  it  was  the  last  effort  of  his  will.  He  yielded, 
though  not  without  an  agonizing  struggle  and  gave  up 
to  his  daughter  the  money,  the  proofs  and  the  arms. 
And  as  she  was  walking  away,  leaning  on  M.  de  Tre- 
gars' arm, — 

"  But  send  me  your  mother,  at  least,"  he  begged. 
"  She  will  understand  me :  she  will  not  be  without  pity. 
She  is  my  wife:  let  her  come  quick.  I  will  not,  I  can 
not  remain  alone." 


XII. 

IT  was  with  convulsive  haste  that  the  Baroness  de 
Thaller  went  over  the  distance  that  separated  the  Rue 
St.  Lazare  from  the  Rue  de  la  Pepiniere.  The  sudden 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  529 

intervention  of  M.  de  Tregars  had  upset  all  her  ideas. 
The  most  sinister  presentiments  agitated  her  mind.  In 
the  courtyard  of  her  residence,  all  the  servants,  gathered 
in  a  group,  were  talking.  They  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  stand  aside  to  let  her  pass ;  and  she  even  noticed  some 
smiles  and  ironical  gigglings.  This  was  a  terrible  blow 
to  her.  What  was  the  matter  ?  What  had  they  heard  ? 
In  the  magnificent  vestibule,  a  man  was  sitting  as  she 
came  in.  It  was  the  same  suspicious  character  that 
Marius  de  Tregars  had  seen  in  the  grand  parlor,  in  close 
conference  with  the  baroness. 

"  Bad  news."  he  said  with  a  sheepish  look. 

"What?" 

"  That  little  Lucienne  must  have  her  soul  riveted  to 
her  body.  She  is  only  wounded ;  and  she'll  get  over  it." 

"  Never  mind  Lucienne.  What  about  M.  de  Tre- 
gars?" 

"  Oh !  he  is  another  sharp  one.  Instead  of  taking  up 
our  man's  provocation,  he  collared  him,  and  took  away 
from  him  the  note  I  had  sent  him." 

Mme.  de  Thaller  started  violently. 

"  What  is  the  meaning,  then,"  she  asked,  "  of  your 
letter  of  last  night,  in  which  you  requested  me  to  hand 
two  thousand  francs  to  the  bearer  ?  " 

The  man  became  pale  as  death. 

"  You  received  a  letter  from  me,"  he  stammered, 
"last  night?" 

"  Yes,  from  you ;  and  I  gave  the  money." 

The  man  struck  his  forehead. 

"  I  understand  it  all !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"What?" 

"  They  wanted  proofs.  They  imitated  my  handwrit- 
ing, and  you  swallowed  the  bait.  That's  the  reason 
why  I  spent  the  night  in  the  station-house ;  and,  if  they 


530  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

let  me  go  this  morning,  it  was  to  find  out  where  I'd  go. 
I  have  been  followed,  they  are  shadowing  me.  We  are 
gone  up,  Mme.  le  Baronne.  Sauve  qui  pent! " 

And  he  ran  out. 

More  agitated  than  ever  Mme.  de  Thaller  went  up 
stairs.  In  the  little  red-and-gold  parlor,  the  Baron  de 
Thaller  and  Mile.  Cesarine  were  waiting  for  her. 
Stretched  upon  an  arm-chair,  her  legs  crossed,  the  tip 
of  her  boot  on  a  level  with  her  eye,  Mile.  Cesarine,  with 
a  look  of  ironical  curiosity,  was  watching  her  father, 
who,  livid  and  trembling  with  nervous  excitement,  was 
walking  up  and  down,  like  a  wild  beast  in  his  cage.  As 
soon  as  the  baroness  appeared, — 

"  Things  are  going  badly,"  said  her  husband,  "  very 
badly.  Our  game  is  devilishly  compromised." 

"You  think  so?" 

"  I  am  but  too  sure  of  it.  Such  a  well-combined 
stroke  too !  But  every  thing  is  against  us.  In  presence 
of  the  examining  magistrate,  Jottras  held  out  well ;  but 
Saint  Pavin  spoke.  That  dirty  rascal  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  share  allotted  to  him.  On  the  information  fur- 
nished by  him,  Costeclar  was  arrested  this  morning. 
And  Costeclar  knows  all,  since  he  has  been  your  confi- 
dant, Vincent  Favoral's,  and  my  own.  When  a  man  has, 
like  him,  two  or  three  forgeries  in  his  record,  he  is  sure 
to  speak.  He  will  speak.  Perhaps  he  has  already  done 
so,  since  the  police  has  taken  possession  of  Latterman's 
office,  with  whom  I  had  organized  the  panic  and  the 
tumble  in  the  Mutual  Credit  stock.  What  can  we  do  to 
ward  off  this  blow?" 

With  a  surer  glance  than  her  husband,  Mme.  de 
Thaller  had  measured  the  situation. 

"  Do  not  try  to  ward  it  off,"  she  replied :  "  It  would  be 
useless." 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY  531 

"Because?" 

"  Because  M.de  Tregars  has  found  Vincent  Favoral; 
because,  at  this  very  moment,  they  are  together,  ar- 
ranging their  plans." 

The  baron  made  a  terrible  gesture. 

"  Ah,  thunder  and  lightning !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
always  told  you  that  this  stupid  fool,  Favoral,  would 
cause  our  ruin.  It  was  so  easy  for  you  to  find  an  occa- 
sion for  him  to  blow  his  brains  out." 

"  Was  it  so  difficult  for  you  to  accept,  M.  de  Tregars' 
offers  ?  " 

"  It  was  you  who  made  me  refuse." 

"  Was  it  me,  too,  who  was  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of 
Lucienne  ?  " 

For  years,  Mile.  Cesarine  had  not  seemed  so  amused ; 
and,  in  a  half  whisper,  she  was  humming  the  famous 
tune,  from  "  The  Pearl  of  Poutoise," — 

"  Happy  accord  !  Happy  couple !  " 

M.  de  Thaller,  beside  himself,  was  advancing  to 
seize  the  baroness :  she  was  drawing  back,  knowing  him, 
perhaps  to  be  capable  of  any  thing,  when  suddenly  there 
was  a  violent  knocking  at  the  door. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law !  " 

It  was  a  commissary  of  police. 

And,  whilst  surrounded  by  agents,  they  were  taken  to 
a  cab. — 

"  Orphan  on  both  sides !  "  exclaimed  Mile.  Cesarine, 
"  I  am  free,  then.  Now  we'll  have  some  fun !  " 

At  that  very  moment,  M.  de  Tregars  and  Mile.  Gil- 
berte  reached  the  Rue  St.  Gilles. 

Hearing  that  her  husband  had  been  found, — 
"  I  must  see  him !  "  exclaimed  Mme.  Favoral. 


532  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY 

And,  in  spite  of  any  thing  they  could  tell  her,  she 
threw  a  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  and  started  with  Mile. 
Gilberte. 

When  they  had  entered  Mme.  Zelie's  apartment,  of 
which  they  had  a  key,  they  found  in  the  parlor,  with  his 
back  towards  them,  Vincent  Favoral  sitting  at  the  table, 
leaning  forward,  and  apparently  writing.  Mme.  Fa- 
voral approached  on  tiptoe,  and  over  her  husband's 
shoulder  she  read  what  he  had  just  written, — 

"  Euphrasie,  my  beloved,  eternally-adored  mistress, 
will  you  forgive  me  ?  The  money  that  I  was  keeping  for 
you,  my  darling,  the  proofs  which  will  crush  your  hus- 
band— they  have  taken  every  thing  from  me,  basely,  by 
force.  And  it  is  my  daughter — " 

He  had  stopped  there.  Surprised  at  his  immobility, 
Mme.  Favoral  called, — 

"Vincent!" 

He  made  no  answer.  She  pushed  him  with  her  finger. 
He  rolled  to  the  ground.  He  was  dead. 

Three  months  later  the  great  Mutual  Credit  suit  was 
tried  before  the  Sixth  Court.  The  scandal  was  great; 
but  public  curiosity  was  strangely  disappointed.  As  in 
most  of  these  financial  affairs,  justice,  whilst  exposing 
the  most  audacious  frauds,  was  not  able  to  unravel  the 
true  secret. 

She  managed,  at  least,  to  lay  hands  upon  every  thing 
that  the  Baron  de  Thaller  had  hoped  to  save.  That 
worthy  was  condemned  to  five  years'  prison ;  M.  Coste- 
clar  got  off  with  three  years ;  and  M.  Jottras  with  two. 
M.  Saint  Pavin  was  acquitted. 

Arrested  for  subornation  of  murder,  the  former 
Marquise  de  Javelle  the  Baroness  de  Thaller,  was  re- 
leased for  want  of  proper  proof.  But,  implicated  in  the 


OTHER  PEOPLE'S  MONEY     533 

suit  against  her  husband,  she  lost  three-fourths  of  her 
fortune,  and  is  now  living  with  her  daughter,  whose 
debut  is  announced  at  the  Bouffes-Parisiens,  or  at  the 
Dclassements-C  antiques. 

Already,  before  that  time,  Mile.  Lucienne,  com- 
pletely restored,  had  married  Maxence  Favoral. 

Of  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs  which  were  re- 
turned to  her,  she  applied  three  hundred  thousand  to  dis- 
charge the  debts  of  her  father-in-law,  and  with  the  rest 
she  induced  her  husband  to  emigrate  to  America. 

Paris  had  become  odious  to  both. 

Marius  and  Mile.  Gilberte,  who  has  now  become 
Marquise  de  Tregars,  have  taken  up  their  residence  at 
the  Chateau  de  Tregars,  three  leagues  from  Quimper. 
They  have  been  followed  in  their  retreat  by  Mme.  Fa- 
voral and  by  General  Count  de  Villegre. 

The  greater  portion  of  his  father's  fortune,  Marius 
had  applied  to  pay  off  all  the  personal  creditors  of  the 
former  cashier  of  the  Mutual  Credit,  all  the  trades-peo- 
ple, and  also  M.  Chapelain,  old  man  Desormeaux,  and 
M.  and  Mme.  Desclavettes. 

All  that  is  left  to  the  Marquis  and  Marquise  de  Tre- 
gars is  some  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  if  they 
ever  lose  them,  it  will  not  be  at  the  bourse. 

The  Mutual  Credit  is  quoted  at  467.25 ! 


THE  END. 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
Santa  Barbara 

STACK  COLLECTION 


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STAMPED  BELOW. 


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